The Pirate Wedding
by jinjyaa
Summary: Yuuram's wedding is preempted when pirates kidnap their mothers. Back in Shin Makoku, the Aristocrats try to declare war on humans again. Several other of the cast get married. But – might Yuuram still get a child as a wedding gift?
1. Demon Gift

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

Prequels: though they're interrelated story arcs, you don't need to read any of my other KKM fanfics before this one. Things I won't explain here: Wolfram's father Manfred is alive. Wolfram and Yuuri got together physically years before this story.

_Please review._

_**Note: **There are** illustrations **for this story. Please click the "homepage" link on my author's profile to see portraits of the OC's, etc. _

Chapter 1 : Demon Gift

Yuuri's smile was so broad and bright, it was due to crack any moment now. He stood on the pier as sailors finished securing the river barge, arrived with yet more wedding guests, down the broad Donza River – from Bielenfeld and Gratz, to be exact. The Gratz contingent didn't worry him – Lord Brendan von Gratz was a mild man somewhat younger than Gwendal, similar to his brother Adelbert in appearance only.

The in-laws from Bielenfeld were another story. Wolfram's demon father himself, healer Professor Manfred von Bielenfeld, a young near-clone to Wolfram, hobbled into view on his cane, with assorted women, a half-dozen blond men, and… Yuri started counting blond children in alarm. "Ah, Wolfram… you never mentioned, just how manyhalf-siblings von Bielenfeld do you have?"

"None, of course. Chichiue could only acknowledge one bastard as his heir. I'm his only son von Bielenfeld. Took him a decade to manage that – Great-Uncle Friedrich _hates_ Hahaue."

"That's not what I meant –"

But Wolfram had already strode forward, waving and calling greetings to his relatives. He leapt up the gangplank and hugged his father tight. "Chichiue! Thanks so much for coming! Cousin Brendan! Great-Uncle Friedrich! Grandma! Great-Aunt Sophie! Cousin Aldrich! Otoutou Efram!" Each duly greeted family member was shooed off to disembark. After Efram, the only one of the children taller than his waist, Wolfram stalled a bit on the names. Manfred introduced him to a few married couples riding herd on assorted children, perhaps a third of them Manfred's. "…Mare and my daughter Moira… And this is Dierdra." The lack of child associated with Dierdra was explained by her vastly advanced pregnancy.

Wolfram smiled and took her hand, like all the others, "Pleased to meet you. Welcome to the family, Dierdra." Warm politeness couldn't hurt, and might compensate for forgeting all their names within the hour. Mare helped her down the gangplank while little Moira skipped around their feet, doing her best to trip them.

Introductions dispensed with, Manfred and Wolfram were left alone to visit at the railing. Yuuri was at the bottom of the gangplank greeting this deluge of in-laws, taken under wing by the sisters Phoebe von Bielenfeld and Sophie von Gratz, mothers to Manfred and Adelbert respectively – women who hadn't stopped talking in as long as anyone could remember. Introductions Manfred boiled down to three words, they expanded to full geneologies with anecdotes. The Lords had escaped quickly up the hill. Heir Aldrich, the rare Bielenfeld devoid of racial prejudice, detested Yuuri on political grounds. He stayed to egg the sisters on.

Manfred grinned at the tableau. "So, Wolfram. You both look… _stressed. _How is your dark and handsome groom, then? Does he deserve to be rescued quickly?"

"Not yet. _Twit._" Wolfram consigned Yuuri to the harridans. "I kicked him out to sleep with Greta a week ago. You wouldn't _believe_ what he –" Manfred cut him off with a hand in the air. Wolfram stopped that train of thought, but in a moment renewed his whining with, "My wedding's supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and the _last _attempt got blown up by that Dai Cimarron invasion –"

Manfred cut him off with a chopping gesture at the neck. "Ah, pretty vixen, weddings are for the guests, not the marrying couple. If you wanted a happy wedding, you should have eloped. Imagine all this energy invested in a honeymoon instead, eh?"

Wolfram snorted. "Kings can't elope… Günter would just make us do it over again right when we got back. How is Efram, anyway? I tried not to get Greta's hopes up about meeting all these midget aunts and uncles…"

Wolfram felt twinges of guilt. Below, Efram, in Wolfram's absense the de facto leader of the half-sibling/cousin horde, had siphoned the next largest two out of the crowd. They were whispering and plotting behind Yuuri, a true believer in the innocent goodness of children. Wolfram, in contrast, recognized a near-clone in Efram – not much taller than Greta perhaps, but an adolescent over twice Yuuri's age, with probably half again Yuuri's IQ, and _up to something._

"They're _fine_," opined Manfred. "We can stop it before anyone's hurt. Probably. Where are Cecilie and Yuuri's parents?"

"Hahaue sailed for Carolia to pick up Flurin and the other guests. Yuuri's family decided to tag along sightseeing. Giesela, too – she worked at rebuilding their town for a month after one of Yuuri's screwups, so she has lots of friends there. They expect to be back tomorrow. Mama-Miko and Otousan are eager to meet you." Yuuri's parents and Manfred hadn't arrived before the last wedding blew up, so they had yet to meet. Yuuri was dreading the event. Wolfram was sure Miko and Manfred would get along famously, and Yuuri's father had the good sense to hide behind his wife.

"And I'm eager to meet them. Ah, Wolfram, about Dierdra… She doesn't want to raise the son when he's born. Efram's mother is her sister – both brilliant women – she's willing to take the baby. But, you once joked about adopting a child of mine and _Cecilie's_. This boy is only mine, but, I was wondering, if you wanted…"

Wolframs eyes grew wide, and he threw his arms around his father in glee. "Oh, _Chichiue!_ Oh, I can't wait to tell Yuuri! _Really?_ You really think she would let us adopt her baby? Oh, by Shinou, what a wedding present! _Thank you!_"

Manfred smiled, honestly delighted and fighting a losing battle to hide it. "You will raise him as a _BOY, _you understand? And… as your son, not mine." Father and son nodded agreement, putting their foreheads together for a moment. Manfred caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, though. "Efram –"

Wolfram wheeled ready to cast a fire curtain around them, but Phoebe and Sophie had already wind-blasted all three miscreants into the harbor. The girl's stepfather lay down on the pier and hauled them up. Two he passed to his wife for spanking. Efram was left to await his father. "Shall we?" sighed Manfred, and they headed down the gangplank.

Wolfram put arms around Phoebe and Sophie and let them continue their introductions – as though anyone could stop them – on the hoof, as they headed up to the castle. Yuuri nodded and smiled and nodded, and every once in a while, cast a worried glance over his shoulder at Manfred and Efram. Though Efram was thoroughly chewed out to start with, soon father and son were sharing eerily familiar beautiful evil green demon smiles.

-oOo-

"I can't believe this! You're a _racist!_" Wolfram hurled a knitted stuffed animal at Yuuri, back in their bedroom.

"You're twisting what I'm saying!" protested Yuuri. "We have to raise children as _our_ children, not _your_ children versus _my_ children! And yes, I'm not sure about raising a full Mazoku baby…"

"Yuuri, _I'm_ a full Mazoku! And in case it slipped your mind, you're Maou of a _nation_ of Mazoku! You can rule a _country_ of demons, but not raise a _baby_ demon? What the hell are you saying!"

"I'm saying I see Efram and I'm not sure… I'm _up_ to this. Come on, please, Wolfram, I'm really not sure I can handle this."

"Up to _what?_ Handle _what?_ Efram's my _brother_ — he's a perfectly normal boy!"

Just then, a movement in the corner behind the curtains caught his attention. Wolfram's sword, unfortunately, was on a chair, sticking through both chair arms, in the same corner, completely undrawable. He heard a sound of metal sliding, as of a sword being drawn, and instantly torched the curtain. A boy started to scream.

Yuuri almost as instantly threw a spell to douse the flaming curtain with water. Wolfram was already running forward in horror – Efram's sleeve was black, except where red-and-black burned skin showed through. "Yuuri, get Chichiue, _NOW!_"

Wolfram knelt in front of a terrified Efram, who backed away into the window. As gently as he could manage in his urgency, he said, "Efram, I have to start healing it before Chichiue gets here. This can't wait." A burn like that was almost painless – at first. But within minutes the agony grew beyond bearable.

"I'll heal it myself!" cried Efram. But the pain was mounting, and the youth started to crumple, holding his burned wrist up and away from his body in horror.

"You _can't_, honey," said Wolfram, ripping the rest of the ruined shirt off his brother. "Even Chichiue couldn't heal this for himself," he soothed, suspecting it was untrue. "I'm just doing first aid, Efram, to control the pain until he gets here." Despite the urgency, Wolfram took a moment to focus. A bad burn was really out of his league training-wise. And a burn was one of the worst things for a fire healer like himself to heal – his healing power was always bathed in flame.

Yuuri dispatched guards to find their healer father. He returned to kneel at Efram's side, stroking his shoulder, trying to reassure him while Wolfram worked. Wolfram held Efram's arm straight out and placed a palm on the burned forearm. Healing fire tendrils snaked out from fingers and hand to lap all up and down Efram's arm. Yuuri gulped – he'd felt Wolfram's healing touch, and it was _hot_. Efram tried to be brave, but in a split second he was screaming. Yuuri clasped the boy to his chest, and in a few minutes, Wolfram withdrew the flames, Efram shaking and gasping.

"Get some water for him to drink, Yuuri," Wolfram said quietly, brushing his brother's hair back from his face. Yuuri scurried back with it, and stroked Efram's back while he drank. He was awed by how much alike the two half-brothers looked, especially Efram's murdurous green glare.

"Your healing _sucks_, Aniki," Efram grumbled when he felt a little less shocky. He looked at his arm and got scared again, so Wolfram gently pushed his face back to look in his eyes instead.

"Chichiue will be here soon, otouto. He can get it all, I promise." And Wolfram continued to stroke his brother's hair, hand blocking the horrifying view of his arm, looking him straight in the eye, murmuring things.

Two guards burst in with Manfred within ten minutes, apparently having run together with him, since Manfred couldn't run on his own power. They helped him to a chair brought beside Efram's burnt arm. "Thank you, gentlemen… What's this, then? Surely you two of all people know better than to play with fire? Let me see." Manfred winced as he ran a monitoring hand an inch above the blistering flesh from shoulder to wrist. "Well, granted it probably doesn't_ look_ much better, but you've your Aniki to thank for saving you a world of pain, hm? Now let's see if I can't get your _looks_ back up to family standards."

"But _he's_ the one –" Efram blurted out.

"None of that," Manfred cut in firmly. "First we heal the body. Screwed up heads and mighta-shoulda-coulda can wait." Despite the outburst, Wolfram never let up looking Efram straight in his matching emerald eyes and smoothing his matching yellow-blond hair, obstructing his view of his arm. Manfred placed his palm much as Wolfram had, but a far brighter set of fire tendrils, with stronger blue cores, snaked steadily and surely up and down and around Efram's arm. Efram gulped and his eyes streamed, but he looked Wolfram steadily in the eye and didn't scream again. It took another ten minutes, but when Manfred stopped, Efram's arm was good as new, not a sign of anything ever having been wrong. "Well, now you look like_ me_ again. Lucky you, fire pixie."

Wolfram sat back on his heels, releasing the boy. Efram cradled his arm, unable to resist inspecting and petting it. "Could you have healed this on yourself, Chichiue?" The fire healer gift passed reliably from father to son – it was his own potential Efram was really asking about.

"Mm, don't know what it looked like before Wolfram. After Wolfram's first aid, certainly."

"Is that what happened to your leg?" Efram looked Manfred in the eye.

Manfred nodded slowly. "I passed out trying. And unfortunately, I didn't have you or your brother's help. I was the only healer in the unit. And I was out cold."

"Couldn't you fix it _later?_"

"Even Shinou couldn't bring back the dead, Efram. The damage was done. _However._ It certainly inspired me to study harder, hm? So." Manfred sat back and surveyed his sons dolefully. "_Wolfram._ Please explain to me why you burned your brother and ruined a perfectly good set of curtains."

Wolfram swallowed. His eyes fixed on something Yuuri had already seen – the sliding metal latch on the window door to the balcony was unfastened. "I thought he was an attacker. I heard metal being drawn… my sword was over here… I reacted."

"As usual. I believe we've spoken of your temper before, hm? _Efram._ Pray tell, why you were lurking in your brother's curtains?" Efram turned mulish and crimson, and glared at the floor. "Oh, what fun, a guessing game. Curious about his sex life? …Got it in one, I see. Did you consider anything radical, like… asking him politely?"

Both brothers and Yuuri stared at the floor blushing at that. "No, I see. Whyever be rational and honest about a _glaringly obvious _and _perfectly reasonable_ question. _Wolfram._ I'm sure you still have a certain book? The homosexual how-to manual with illustrations, that Yuuri brought from his home world? Efram and I are borrowing it. Bring it, please."

Wolfram obeyed. Blushing, he hesitated and found a certain page before handing it over to Efram, whose eyes grew wide as he drank in the picture. "Um, Wolfram? Which are you?"

While Yuuri hid his face altogether, Wolfram pointed. "Me. Him."

"Oh."

"You'll have plenty of time to study it later," Manfred said, taking the book and marking the page. "Wolfram, did you know Efram shares your flair for art? I think he'll be spending a few hours copying studies of male anatomy and response while the other kids are out playing and exploring the castle. Any particular requests?"

Wolfram took the book and riffled through it, marked a page, and handed it back. Efram's lack of dismay at his punishment made it clear he really was more interested in the book at the moment. "Chichiue… There's something I'd like to speak to Efram about in private if you don't mind," Wolfram requested.

Manfred smiled pleasantly and leaned back. "No way in _hell._ Pretty vixen, you and the fire pixie settle this, completely, in front of me, right here, right now. When I leave this room, with Efram, this matter is _over_, foreverAm I understood?"

Wolfram briefly considered trying to put this conversation to a man-to-man footing instead of man-to-son, and dropped the idea as if – burned. Man-to-man he'd just grievously wounded this other man's son. He turned to Efram instead. "Efram… you overheard Yuuri and me fighting. Every couple fights from time to time, especially when they're under a lot of stress, like this wedding. We said things no one else was meant to hear."

"Like what," demanded Manfred.

Efram synopsized, looking daggers at Wolfram. "Like Yuuri can't stand the idea of adopting Dierdra's baby because he'd turn out like _me_, and Wolfram thinks Yuuri's a racist human-lover who hates his own demon people."

"Is this… fairly accurate, Wolfram?" asked Manfred, in a voice dripping venom. Wolfram clenched his eyes shut in pain, and nodded briefly.

"I –" Yuuri attempted to object.

"No one asked you," Manfred cut him off. "Anything _else_ I need to know about, my _dear_ sons. No? Shinou be praised… _Wolfram. _Apologize to Efram."

Wolfram stood in front of Efram and bowed his head. "Efram, burning you was unforgivable. I'm an adult. You're my brother. And I love you. And what you overheard… was ugly. And I have to believe, that it wasn't really true. I hope that you can find it within yourself to forgive me." Yuuri had never, ever heard Wolfram apologize that abjectly before.

Manfred wasn't especially impressed. "_Efram_."

"Wolfram, spying on you was dishonest. If what I heard upset me, it was my own fault for eavesdropping. Thank you for healing my arm, even though you _suck_ at it." Manfred cleared his throat. "Yeah, so, I forgive you for burning me. It was my fault." Manfred tapped his chair arm to indicate, _you're not done yet_. "And what I heard that I shouldn't have…" Efram screwed up his face in fury. "I _can't,_ Chichiue! How can I forgive and forget that!"

Manfred shrugged. "Then speak your piece."

"_I_ want him!" Efram yelled at Wolfram in anguish. "_I _want the baby! He's my first cousin _and_ my half brother – that's as close as I'll ever get to having a full brother!" He pointed at Yuuri, furious tears pooling in ardent emerald eyes. "_He_ doesn't deserve my baby brother!"

Wolfram's heart and tearing eyes met Efram's exactly in anguish. He'd always wanted a full brother, too. He wanted the baby, a baby to grow like Efram, with aching force.

Yuuri felt his heart would break watching this. "I – " he attempted.

"Shut up, Yuuri," said Manfred. "Efram, can you forgive _Wolfram's_ side of that?"

Efram hung his head and nodded. "I still want the baby. But I know you do, too. And you probably won't dump the wimp over this, even if I think you should. You'll still be my brother and I love you. Apology accepted, Wolfram."

"Thank you," Wolfram whispered sadly. "Apology accepted, Efram."

"Then we're done here. Efram, I'd like to ask that you not discuss this with Dierdra or anyone else. This one's all mine... Understood?" Efram nodded. Manfred pulled himself up onto his cane and started hobbling out of the room, book tucked under his cane arm, hand on Efram's shoulder. Yuuri tried again to approach him, but Manfred stared him down. Wolfram didn't even try. As the door closed, he just sunk to the floor and buried his head in his arms on his knees.

"He's good," attempted Yuuri, scared.

But Wolfram was completely deflated. "Chichiue? One of the best healers in the world. Efram was damned lucky he was in the same building – even with Giesela, he'd have been scarred for life. Way out of my league – even just blocking the pain, that was the toughest healing I've ever done."

"I meant as a father. He intimidates me so much, I forget that. You have an _awesome_ father."

"Yeah." Wolfram's voice was muffled in his arms. "Days like this, I wish I'd spent more time with him, instead of as Hahaue's dress-up doll. When I screwed over Conrad and Gwendal, I got petted and coddled and _he's-just-a-babied_. Efram's a better person than I am for it. Of course, it helps that they live in the same town."

Yuuri gingerly sat down next to him, stroked his back a little. "He is. Efram's a great kid. A _brave _kid. And you make a terrific father. You're great with Greta, and you were wonderful with Efram. Seeing you together… Wolfram, you'd be _phenomenal_ as his brother's father – _your_ brother's father. I'm the one who flunked out today, not you. You can handle it. Let's do it. Let's adopt the baby."

"Fat chance of that now. And it was my fault, not yours. I overreacted and mouthed off when you were just trying to say you weren't ready. I overreacted again and nearly scarred my brother for life. And by doing all that, I convinced my father that_ I_ wasn't mature enough for him to entrust his son to."

"No, hear me out," said Yuuri. "Manfred accepted your apologies, even if you said them to Efram. It was _me_ he couldn't forgive. And he was right. You and Efram were right. I'm Maou of the Mazoku, and I still haven't fully accepted Mazoku. But it's not racism. It's… Wolfram, even the _humans_ in this world live decades longer than in mine." Wolfram twitched at that revelation. "I don't really expect to live to your age. If I do, I'll be ancient and fragile. Maybe. Probably. Maybe being Maou, I'll be more Mazoku than my father, as a full Earth Mazoku. But so far… I seem like a pretty normal human 17 year old.

"I don't like to face that any full-Mazoku child will grow up and marry and have children after I'm dead and gone. That you'll have to be that child's real parent instead of me, because he'll live on a different timescale. But… I'd like it even less for you to live on for centuries after I'm gone, with nothing left of me, of our time together, because I wouldn't let you have a love on _your_ timescale. _That's_ what was freaking me out. Time. But I want you to have this child, for _us_ to have this child. Someone to live on after I'm gone, that's what all parents want, right? So, I'm young to have a baby. I'm young to have an eleven-year-old, but I've got people around to help, you most of all. Let's do this adoption. I'll talk to Manfred and apologize and –"

"_Don't _talk to Chichiue." Wolfram raised his head at that _foolhardy_ suggestion. "Stay away from him for a few days. Let him cool off. Then let me do the talking. Believe me, Yuuri – his temper's worse than mine, just better controlled. Please, Yuuri. I want this. I want this more than I've ever wanted anything before… except you."

Yuuri nodded. He tentatively put his hands on Wolfram's shoulders, seeking permission for a hug. Wolfram embraced him tight. Yuuri kissed his way around from Wolfram's ear to his mouth, building up to a deep kiss. "Say, Wolfram… We're alone together…"

"Efram was banking on it. Clever kid."

Yuuri chuckled. "I've missed you… It'll be dinner soon, but.. let me sleep back here with you tonight?" Yuuri's hands wanderd down Wolfram's sides, then one around to the small of his back, pressing him closer.

"Mmm, definitely…"

A knock on the door and Günter's familiar "Heika?" interrupted. "Tonight," Yuuri whispered. Wolfram nodded. "Come in?" Yuuri called to the door.

Günter entered, accompanied by Conrad and yet another wedding preliminaries itinerary. "Ah, Heika! I trust you enjoyed your rest break? This evening, of course, you'll be dining with _all_ of Wolfram's relatives from Bielenfeld and Gratz – it wouldn't do to slight them, and after tonight you'll be too busy –"

"Will you come, too?" Yuuri asked hopefully.

"Oh, of course not! I couldn't presume –" Behind him, Conrad pointed to himself as an offer.

"Ah – Günter," Yuuri cut in. "Please add Conrad and Gwendal to this evening's dinner list."

"Yuuri," complained Wolfram, "the whole idea is for you to get to know my father's family, not hide behind my mother's."

"Ah, but isn't this a wonderful occasion to bring them closer together? And Gwendal and Friedrich and Brendan are all members of the Ten Aristocrats…"

Wolfram conceded the point. Günter made an annotation and continued. "After dinner, Wolfram and Gwendal meet with Friedrich and Brendan and the von Trondheims on military matters, while Yuuri has coffee and dessert with Greta and the delegations from Cavalcade, Mizrat, and Frieburg. Followed by both of you having a nightcap with…"

Yuuri's mind drifted to what he wanted to accomplish at those small private meetings leading up to the big allies' summit the day after next, since they were all in town for the wedding anyway. He automatically tuned back in when Günter's voice regained its whiny edge.

"…And Wolfram. For tomorrow night's dinner for your parent's and Yuuri's to meet – I assume you'll want Gwendal and Conrad. Exactly who in the Bielenfeld… group…?"

"Chichiue and Efram and Dierdra –"

"_Dierdra?_ Heika, Manfred's pregnant ex-girlfriend is hardly appropriate –"

"I agree with Wolfram," said Yuuri, hand up to ward off further objections. "And your grandmother and Aunt Sophie as well, Wolfram?"

"Of course. And Adelbert and Brendan, too, if you don't mind. They're practically my uncles."

Günter wrote them down grudgingly, then looked at him, lips pursed. "And, of the rest of your half-siblings?"

Wolfram sighed. "No, I guess not. It's not like I really know them myself. Unless Greta wants one of the girls to come – please let Greta bring any of my half-siblings she wants."

"Ah, could I invite Murata, too? As family?" asked Yuuri. "My family knows him from the other world." Wolfram nodded and Günter penciled him in.

"Well," said Günter, handing them a copy of the next 24 hours' itinerary, "enjoy the slow pace of this family day. Things pick up considerably after this, through the wonderful wedding day!" He looked so beatific at this that Yuuri and Wolfram put on their broad bright soon-to-crack smiles as they waved the men out of the room, promising to emerge promptly in the ten minutes they were allotted to change for dinner.

Wolfram, plastic smile still afixed, said, "This is my fault, isn't it. I wanted a big wedding to make up for last year's fiasco. Tell me '_I told you so_' now, Yuuri. By tomorrow, I might have to kill you if you say it."

"Ah, thanks for the offer, but… In ten minutes we're dining with Manfred and Efram, who'd just as soon see me dead right now, so…"

Wolfram sighed, and nodded in sad agreement.

-oOo-

Author's note: This story is dedicated to Schnickledooger, who suggested I follow up _Axel _with a story of Cheri and Manfred having another baby boy and Yuuri and Wolfram adopting it. So, Schnick's version of this story:

-oOo-

_WOLFRAM:_ summons ball of flame in hand: Now listen carefully. This is fire. It's UBER HOT-like Papa Yuuri. Ahem. You burn mean/evil/Hideously Ugly Boys Clubs members/unfaithful cheating fiances with it. Then you throw back your head and laugh triumphantly. Understand?

_YUURI:_ enters in room: Howse my two fav demons?:clothes mysteriously catch ablaze; _YUURI:_ runs about shrieking and jigging:

_BABY:_ claps hands and giggles pointing: WIMP! WIMP!

_WOLFRAM: _beams, cuddles BABY to chest and cooes: That's my little protege! I'm SO PROUD!

(by Schnickledooger)

-oOo-

Heh, heh. I know you only wanted one baby, Schnickledooger - Cheri and Manfred's. Forgive me. But I want to keep the readers _guessing_ which / how many / what gender / what race / what age kids they get in this… wedding. :evil author grin: (Of course, readers of Epilogue already have an outline of how the _wedding_ goes… I couldn't have the _baby _be preordained as well…)

-oOo-

_Please review._


	2. Absent Mothers

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 2 : Absent Mothers

"Ah! What a glorious afternoon for a cruise!" said Shibuya Miko, Yuuri's mother. And it was – the sky and sea were a perfect blue, iridescent winged fish leaping beside Cheri's yacht. The sun was lowering to what promised to be a stunning sunset, with a light tracing of high cirrus clouds, behind some low islands a few miles off their starboard side. "Uma-chan, we _must_ take cruises more often. Now Shou-chan's in Switzerland, and Yuu-chan is here – it's just the two of us again. When we get back, I'm going to book us a cruise around the Hawaiian Islands and down to Tahiti! A second honeymoon, won't that be fun?"

"Ah…" Yuuri's father Shibuya _Sho_uma – whom only his wife called Uma-chan, or horse-sweetie – looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I could get another week off from the bank in six months or so… For Hawaii. Dear, it's several thousand miles of empty ocean from Hawaii to Tahiti…" He avoided mentioning _again_ the _many _millions of yen he'd just wasted to bankroll Yuuri's wedding party's wardrobe, imported to Shin Makoku from the most exclusive shops of Tokyo. Or that he was bored silly on this or any other cruise.

"Oh, you're such a spoilsport, Uma!" Before this could deteriorate, Cheri emerged from below decks, trailed by Giesela, Murata, Flurin, and Yozak. "Ah! Giesela! The bride's-maid's dress is _perfect_ on you!"

Giesela disagreed vehemently, smiled politely, tripped over her hem, and fell to the deck. Flurin, in a matching pink satin strapless confection, kindly gave her a hand up from one side, Murata on the other. The pink, a delightful companion to Flurin's papery white complexion and lavender hair, looked hideous with Giesela's deep-green locks, and the strapless shoulders showcased the exact cut of her uniform's overshirt and undershirt, in silouettes of darker and lighter brown freckled areas, on a white background.

Just to join in on the dress-up fun, Murata was modeling Yuuri's formal wedding kimono instead of his own. His own, in a pattern Yuuri had picked out for both of them, was an elegant formal heavy black silk men's kimono, affixed with a Murata family crest, with assorted underlayers and ties and sashes of varying shades of purple and red and silvery-sheened patterned black. It looked great on Murata. It had looked great on Yuuri, too. But Miko had arrived in Shin Makoku with only the one Murata-emblazoned copy.

Murata modeled instead Yuuri's last-minute unauthorized replacement kimono – at a price tag that had made the fairly well-to-do Shouma swoon – featuring a pink cherry blossom motif chased in gold and silver on a pink background, with assorted other layers patterned in hot pink and yellow peonies. Murata sensibly wore his own brown men's shoes rather than the traditional white tabi toe-socks and platform sandals that went with the outfit. Keeping pure white tabi _white_ was nearly impossible – they would be donned minutes before the ceremony. "You were right about the make-up, Mama Miko," he said, smiling. "It looks far better with white face-paint." In fact, without the traditional Japanese white-face, the kimono's colors made the traditional Japanese complexion look… downright jaundiced.

"So these dresses match Wolfram's?" inquired Flurin politely, pirouetting to show off the fit for Miko. "I'm not used to wearing a dress that's so…" _sexy, slinky,_ _revealing, _"…form-fitting." Slender, small-chested Flurin tended to wear huge skirts and puffy blouses.

Wolfram had agreed to a dress to please Miko, and because it sounded like fun. But, no one's fool in the wardrobe department, he'd selected a sexy dress for a short man. The bare lace-up back was scooped down as low as it could go, and below that, ruching fell down the middle to drape the ass, with a poufy bit of tacked-on bustle at front crotch level to shield any telltale bulges. The chest required no breasts at all, but with his mother's standards as a guide, he figured the back lacing and modest two inch cleavage cut, were sufficient support for the women as well. Two slits in front permitted locomotion in a skirt that would otherwise be entirely too narrow, all in a cream-on-cream floral light satin. Wolfram looked gorgeous in it at the store – he took Yuuri's breath away.

"They match the dress _Wolfram_ picked out," said Shouma darkly. "Miko-chan made a substitution there, too…" Wolfram's _new_ wedding dress was pure bright white instead of cream, Miko's ideal of the perfect Western-style wedding dress – a petticoats-and-satin confection out of the antebellum Deep South, wider than it was tall, covering every inch of skin with lace and beads, with a lacy veil that covered the entire thing over again in a tent that trailed the floor to several times Wolfram's height. Miko somewhat arbitrarily decided that Wolfram's bust should be padded to a 38C. Wolfram referred to it as _the toadstool costume from hell._

"I imagine Wolfram's dress will match them again by the time his tailor is done with it," said Murata, grinning. _Or the tailor will die trying – by his lord's hand. _No doubt it would even be dyed to the exact shade of cream Wolfram preferred, or Bielenfeld blue if those dye tests worked better. Or scrapped altogether and Wolfram's dress made_ to his specifications_ from fresh cloth. "I wonder if Yuuri is still banished to Greta's bedroom…" Murata considered it somewhat unfair of Wolfram to hold _Yuuri_ responsible for Miko's misdeeds.

"Oh, they shouldn't sleep together right before the wedding anyway," said Miko.

"It's not that they _sleep together_ anyway," insisted Shouri, Yuuri's brother. "Wolfram's his bodyguard. They're wearing _white_, after all."

"Does white signify something?" asked Cheri, dressed in cherry red. One could see exactly where Wolfram got his ideas regarding judicious use of slits and ruching.

"That they're _virgins_," insisted Shouri. Shouma rolled his eyes and shook his head at Cheri, to indicate, _Don't even try – his denial is still rock-solid._ Cheri looked amused.

Giesela, wobbily standing again, decided the first thing that had to go was the shoes. She wanted her sergeant's jackboots, not tiny little stiletto-heeled toys. She took one heel and smashed it to the deck, by 'accident'. "Oh, my! Well, perhaps I'd best wear flats…" She kicked off the useless bits of upholstered plastic immediately.

Flurin giggled discreetly behind her hand, then said, "Actually, Giesela, I think I have the perfect slippers for you. Just a moment…" And to Giesela's deep envy, Flurin pranced effortlessly back belowdecks.

Yozak, dressed for dinner in a narrow flame-colored evening gown and pearls, took pity on her. He said, "Giesela, honey, let me show you how it's done." He held elbows to his sides, lower arms spreading out from there, hands splayed out parallel to the floor to show off his rings, and walked across the deck in front of her, swinging hips to the utmost, moving legs mostly below the knee. "The trick is to picture your center of gravity moving directly forward, your upper body gracefully growing upward from there, shoulders back and down with head held high and proud, and use your _hips_ to propel you along. There, now you try it," he invited, pirouetting to face her again.

Two fingers elegantly pressed to her lips to control laughter, Cheri glided effortlessly in her stiletto heels and tightly ruched slit skirt to the railing to pose between Shouma and Shouri to watch. If Giesela had any sense, she would have watched Cheri as a model, but she was entirely too bemused by the vision of Yozak – _Miss Biceps_, as Yuuri still called the giant redheaded man sometimes – swinging his hips.

"Yozak, you do realize there are anatomical differences between men and women in the pelvis region," she complained.

"Forget you're a healer or a soldier when you're in that dress, honey," advised Yozak. "Just be – _a woman_. Wanting the eyes of her _very special man_ watching every swing of her _tempting_ ass." Shouri coughed, Shouma applied himself to his wine, and Cheri nodded. _Good advice, actually._ Murata, trying every day to be selected as her _very special man_, eagerly watched _every swing_ of her tempting ass.

"Let me try," said Murata. It took but a single hip swing for him to overbalance and trip. Kimonos do not come equipped with high sexy leg slits to permit locomotion in a skirt that's too narrow for it. One is supposed to shuffle in quick tiny mincing steps without separating thighs or knees at all. Giesela caught him, but tripped on a discarded stiletto heel, and they both fell to the deck, Giesela's generous bust easily escaping its limited structural support, Murata face-first into a wayward breast. "Ah… excuse me," he grinned up at her beatifically. "Thank you for the save."

Blushing furiously, Giesela tucked herself back into the dress and pushed Murata off. Though not, he thought, in an entirely unfriendly way. _I'm getting closer every day_. _This Valkyrie will be mine… _He wished he'd be standing at Wolfram's side with Giesela at the wedding, instead of at Yuuri's with Flurin, but the wedding preparations threw them together plenty anyway – the ceremony itself couldn't take more than an hour. A full formal Mazoku wedding – not uncommonly with same-sex couple as centerpiece – featured the entire immediate families of the wedding couple, plus uncoupled man and woman close friends to either side. A crippled ex-trooper of Wolfram's, named Andrei, was coming from Bielenfeld to stand with Giesela.

Just as Murata was making some headway in their mutual assistance at getting up off the deck – actually he was making the most of the opportunity to grope Giesela – there was suddenly a giant _CREAK_ and the ship very quickly slowed to a halt. Had Giesela bothered to watch, she could have seen just how surely and quickly an experienced woman can glide in stiletto heels and tight skirt, as Cheri made a beeline for the helm to consult with the captain.

"We've run aground?" wondered Shouma aloud, to no one in particular. "Surely this is a regular trade route? Navigation should be trivial - we can see how far we are from the islands…" That being, not terribly far. Two ships had just emerged from behind a headland, heading in their direction, running straight downwind, fast.

"Pirates," said Yozak succinctly. "Maybe fifteen minutes." He bolted down the gangway just as Florin came up, brandishing her lovely beaded dove-grey kid-skin flats to loan Giesela.

"Thank you," said Giesela helplessly. She stuff the slippers into her bust, hiked up her ruching into the camouflage bit of front bustle, and bolted down the gangway after Yozak for her sword.

Not that there was any point in getting a sword. Cheri's yacht carried neither troops nor armaments. Their entire fighting force was Giesela, a medic, and Yozak, a spy. Plus whatever weak majutsu the rest of the Mazoku crew could pull together this far from Shin Makoku. The perennial favorite toy of a wind-user – best of all a Maou wind-user, who could use her majutsu at stunning power levels well outside Shin Makoku – Cheri's sailing ship was built for speed. She could outrun any pirate on the seas, in whatever direction she pleased.

Provided, of course, the ship didn't run aground.

"Water," said Shouri suddenly. "I just need to float the boat off the sandbar." A good thought – Shouri too had Maou powers, usable away from Shin Makoku, as Maou in training for Earth, though his were considerably less developed than Cheri's or Yuuri's. He gathered his powers, mounted a wave 10 feet high, and used it to push the ship… forward.

Had he thought to consult with the captain and Cheri before attempting this, of course, he would have been advised that the direction of choice was _backward._ Shouri's prodigious efforts, in net, shoved the keel six feet deeper into the sandbar, with the ship now tilted slightly uphill. There was never the slightest chance of floating the _keel _over the sandbar. A boat built to put vast sail to vast wind-power and run like hell, Cheri's yacht had an extraodinarily deep keel for its size.

Cheri returned, with the captain, and petted Shouri soothingly. "It was a good thought, dear. It's a pity the sails can't be rigged to push… that way." She pointed, directly backward. "Could you try it again, please? _That _way?" He actually managed to raise a 12 foot wave this time, sloshing the decks a bit, with Cheri whipping the wave up a bit with some wind. The ship rocked a bit, and the tilt uphill evened out slightly.

Cheri and the captain looked at each other sadly. "The good news," he said thoughtfully, "is that the tide's about four hours from full. That… a few anchors and the capstan… high tide… might do it." Cheri thoughtfully tucked this information away for future reference.

As Giesela jumped back on deck, brandishing a sword, Cheri patted her shoulder and told her kindly, "Best lay that somewhere out of sight, dear. We'll surrender." At the younger woman's look of dismay, Cheri got firmer, though still in silken tones. "There's no point in getting hurt. We'll look for an opportunity later."

And so Wolfram's mother, Yuuri's entire family, three of the four men and maids of honor, and most of the wardrobe for Yuuri and Wolfram's wedding, waited on a sandbar to surrender to pirates.

-oOo-

Bielenfeld and Gratz were two of the oldest, proudest, purest Mazoku domains of the Ten Aristocrats, drenched in history back to before the founding of Shin Makoku. Bielenfeld especially had a proud tradition of Mazoku souls being reborn locally – once a Bielenfeld, forever a Bielenfeld. In other words, the people at this dinner party had not merely spent all day together floating down a river, nor all their lives in each other's company (and not much of anyone else's) – no, these people had been friends and family together for _over four thousand years_, give or take a few.

Nevertheless, it was traditional to pretend to meet a new member and welcome him or her into the family, should anyone happen to marry an outsider. Once in a while, such a marriage even succeeded. Though – chances were better if the married couple stayed _outside_ the homeland. Outsiders… didn't tend to be happy there. Military service, on the other hand, was _very_ popular. The placid plantations of Bielenfeld, rising gradually to the mountainous forests and rangelands of Gratz, offered little more in the way of excitement than calving season. Young people with raging hormones escaped to the adventure of the military in droves. They were the most militant domains in all Shin Makoku.

Yuuri and Wolfram arrived at the dining room, resplendant and with plastic smiles affixed, and scoped the scene – two tables, one for adults, one for children. Conrad, smart man, had chosen the children's table –Yuuri should have realized this was one party Conrad should not have been invited to. There were _no_ humans and _no_ half-Mazoku in Bielenfeld and Gratz. Yuuri murmured, "Can I take the children's table first, then we trade?" Wolfram nodded.

In theory, they each had an ally and bridge at their respective tables – Efram, old enough to sit with the adults, but de facto leader of the aristocratic children, and Manfred, the tie that bound all these people to the marrying couple. Efram was missing. Wolfram sent a minion to find and fetch him, but otherwise let Yuuri deal with his own table – ably assisted by nearly one-on-one servers to ride herd on the kids so the adults could ignore them.

After everyone had been hustled into their seats, Manfred raised the expected toast – a speech he'd prepared ahead of time, so it was quite good, and well received, if not particularly heartfelt at the moment of speaking. Applause all around, Wolfram and Yuuri said their prepared speeches in return, and everyone settled down to eat and visit.

Wolfram rightfully drew the tougher audience. He decided to try Yuuri's trick – smile brightly and set the tone for the table, leading the conversation. "So, Chichiue," he tried to project above the babble of twenty-odd adults continuing their four-millenial conversations. "How are things going at the Institute these days?"

"Mm, big demand for counter-houjutsu specialists lately," he replied.

"That's because all this new trade with the _humans_ the Maou's opened up, has more and more Mazoku traveling outside Shin Makoku," added Manfred's uncle Friedrich, ruling Lord of Bielenfeld. Though Manfred by rights should have been holding down the foot of the table opposite the groom, Günter had instead placed Friedrich there, consigning Manfred to a place of no honor at mid-table amongst ex-girlfriends and their husbands. "More and more Mazoku are being targeted. We need to put more effort into _defense_ of our people. I've written you about this," Friedrich accused Wolfram. "Gwendal, has my nephew been presenting my requests properly?"

Gwendal nodded, already thoroughly pissed at being dragged into this dinner party. "We're concerned and looking into it. Let's save that discussion for our meeting after dinner, Lord Friedrich." Friedrich frowned but conceded the point – save military issues for the military leaders, not the family supper.

Grandma Phoebe felt no such compunction. "A Bielenfeld healer was kidnapped just last month – doing humanitarian aid for 'Cabaret' or somesuch _human_ place. They got her daughter, too, and forced her to work for them by threatening her little girl. She was one of your students, wasn't she, Manfred?"

"Annette, yes," agreed Manfred. "…My patient, now."

"Has she spoken yet, Manfred?" inquired Sophie, from Phoebe's right. Günter had given the inseparable pair the place of honor to the groom's right, no doubt from romantic notions of dignified matriarchs. Wolfram made a mental note to have a word with the protocol officer about seating his relatives. Günter's fantasy life could be a royal pain in the ass sometimes. "I heard she hasn't spoken a word since her little girl was raped to death. A child! Human _beasts!_"

Manfred wasn't about to discuss his patient's recovery. "You heard about that affair here, didn't you, Wolfram?"

"Ah, no," admitted Wolfram, knowing it for an impolitic answer, but stuck with the truth. "But I've been busy preparing for the wedding and the Aristocrats' and allies' summits. Did you hear anything, Gwendal?"

Aldrich, Friedrich Lord Bielenfeld's son, responded before Gwendal could finish chewing. "What the hell's on the agenda for the summits, if not the increasing human predation on Mazoku?"

"We'll distribute an agenda at the beginning of the meeting, of course," placated Wolfram, mentally adding, _and increasing human predation on Mazoku just leapt to the top of the list._ "Our hope in a lot of these smaller working meetings, building up to the big meetings, is to hone that agenda. You'll attend with your father, I trust?"

"Wolfram, you _tell_ Yuuri," said Phoebe, "that we can't let this kind of thing get out of hand! A century and a half to replace a good Mazoku generation, and only two decades for those _humans_ – they breed like rabbits. _Animals!_"

"Politics," interjected Manfred. "Let's not talk the family business at dinner, hm? This is a social occasion."

"Quite right, Manfred," said Sophie, mother of the two latest Lords of Gratz. "Say, Wolfram, what's this I hear that you're wearing a _dress_ at your wedding? Manfred, were you aware of this?"

Manfred grimaced. "First I've heard of it, Aunt Sophie…" The table erupted in a general babble, most people discussing whether men should ever wear wedding dresses and asking each other whether they'd already known Wolfram was the _bottom_ of the couple and whether or not it was right to actually _proclaim_ that in public or whether who was which should be kept _private_. Not one bit interested in wedding dresses, and having assumed all along Wolfram was a _bottom_, this allowed the unnatural concentration of Lords militant at the foot of the table to return to arguing policy with Gwendal, the Maou's ranking advisor. Manfred, the only person who had a prayer of controlling the table, simply saw no reason to do so. He entered a quiet, fairly serious conversation with the very pregnant Dierdra. Wolfram hoped he didn't know what it was about.

When Grandma Phoebe turned to him and asked, "So, Wolfram, tell me. How is he in bed? Does he give good head?" Wolfram firmly decided there were no problems in his life that decking his grandmother couldn't make worse.

He rose, flipped a limp wrist theatrically, and said, "_I_ never kiss and tell, Grandma." He proceeded to work the table on foot, butting in and visiting with a couple relatives at a time. He'd made it halfway down one side when a guard arrived, escorting a truly pissed off Efram.

Ignoring Wolfram, who indicated his seat at the children's table (currently in an uproar over the discovery that Yuuri was only seventeen), Efram marched directly to Manfred. He announced, "I left a letter for you on your bed from my mother. She hid the letters in my luggage. I opened and read yours. _Sue me._ Now, may I be excused, without you sending troops after me?"

"Ah… What?" said Manfred, stupefied. "Efram… please sit and eat. Let's talk about… whatever this is… after dinner."

"_I'M NOT_…" He started too loud, but promptly corrected his tone. "Pardon me. I'm not hungry, Chichiue. Please excuse me, Wolfram." And he stalked back out again.

"Manfred, what ails your brat?" demanded Phoebe. "I've half a mind to go whup him myself!"

"Mm… don't know. Leave him be, Mama." He bent to listen to an urgent whisper from Dierdra, Efram's aunt on his mother's side. He looked alarmed by what he heard. "Mm, actually, maybe I should go… I'm not that hungry, either. My apologies, but will you excuse me, Wolfram?" He rose to leave.

"I'll go, too," said Dierdra, who, without Manfred, was an orphan at the table. Wolfram recalled that her sister, Efram's mother, was from Krist, a tenured professor of magical defense at the Majutsu Institute.

Thus neatly torn three ways by conflicting demands for paternal attention from all three of his sons, Manfred sunk back to his seat, smiling wanly. "Ah… it can wait. You must eat, dear." He bent solicitously to the task of making Dierdra comfortable.

Wolfram came around and squatted between them. "Chichiue? Do you need to go talk to Efram? I'd love a chance to sit and visit with Dierdra." He smiled at her warmly, and she returned the smile gratefully.

"Ah… I shouldn't, but…," Manfred waffled. "Are you sure?" Wolfram nodded, and with apologies all around, Manfred left to read his dread letter from Professor Dionne Zarelle.

In the end, Wolfram spent the rest of his stint getting to know Dierdra Zarelle. He and Yuuri traded tables for only the last ten minutes or so, and then Yuuri simply took over the seat beside Dierdra. They found they both liked her very much indeed. Somehow, despite this crazy zoo of a wedding, Wolfram and Yuuri had accidentally found time to talk to one person they didn't know and both desperately wanted to know.

-oOo-

Yozak carefully peeked out the gangway, then emerged onto the deck, still in his flame-colored evening gown and pearls, though he'd ditched the heels. "What the hell?" he said, mystified.

He'd waited a long time in a gear locker, after the sounds of the pirates taking his friends died away. As the sun set, but before it got too dark to scope out the situation, he'd come out to check. But there was absolutely no one on the ship. Nor was there a sail toward any horizon, just the clump of low islands still lurking beneath the sunset.

He wandered toward the binnacle and studied the charts, but everything was as it should be. They were on a trade route, not the most popular one perhaps, but clearly marked, and the chart read the fathoms. Obviously the captain knew what depth the boat needed. Yet the yacht was unarguably still stuck on a sand bar. Or… something. Yozak frowned.

But that wasn't the immediate problem. The immediate problem was that, as a professional spy, he'd stayed behind to maintain his freedom, to get word to his boss Gwendal where they were. He had no homing pigeons or kohi at his disposal. Why would he? He was headed _home_, on the fastest courier ship in the world.

This ship was worth _huge_ money – far more than the people and minor jewelry the pirates had taken. And far less dangerous to cash in.

"So where the hell's the prize crew?" Yozak wondered aloud. The seagulls didn't answer.

-oOo-

After hunting an hour, Manfred concluded Efram just didn't want to be found yet. Sadly, he left a note on his son's pillow.

_Efram, Please come talk to me – wake me if you have to. You're always welcome in my home, you know that. But if you prefer, I'll help work things out with your mother and stepfather. You had every right to read my letter – I'd like to read yours if I may. I love you, son. Talk to me. Manfred._

Both legs aching from the day's exertions, Manfred found a bottle of wine and a nice quiet balcony off the empty ballroom. Adelbert and company tracked him down there after the military mini-meeting broke up. "Nice spot. Mind if we join you, Manfred?" Manfred waved at empty chairs in invitation. Gwendal dispatched a minion to bring more bottles. "How's Efram?"

"Haven't found him yet," said Manfred. "Hope he hasn't done anything stupid. Yet… Probably just a matter of time."

"Adolescents must be tough," Teodor von Trondheim sympathized. Though the men were all of an age by Mazoku standards, Manfred had started ridiculously young with Wolfram, Cecilie being well over twice his age at the time – Manfred was only a few decades older than Gwendal. Brendan Lord Gratz's kids were younger than Efram, and Ted and Gwendal and Adelbert hadn't started yet.

"Actually, adolescents are my favorite," said Manfred, who'd made a career of teaching them at the Institute. "Little ones want attention all the time, and they're _rotten_ conversationalists. And Wolfram… Well, he's a grown man now, for better or worse, not much to do with me. Not that he ever did." He took a long slow swig of wine.

"He's grown into a fine young man, Manfred," offered Adelbert.

"Yeah, Wolfram's alright," admitted Manfred grudgingly. "His short-cycle princess games can get on my nerves, but he's solid in the long run… Have to say, I think this wedding should wait til the_ other one's_ older, but I'm hardly one to talk." Struck by a thought, he chuckled darkly and threw a limp wrist at Adelbert. In a low breathy voice, he mimicked, "_'_I_ never kiss and tell, Grandma._' Good _lord_ - wonder how many years' sterling military and diplomatic service, _that_ little bit of bitchery wiped out?"

"All of it," suggested Gwendal in disgust. "Aldrich and Friedrich were _wrist-flipping_ all meeting, damn them."

"Wolfram handled it well," defended Adelbert's younger brother Brendan. "Never a flinch. That comeback about _wrist-flipping_ as riposte practice, hand on his sword hilt, was pretty clever, _I _thought. He never let Aldrich or Friedrich get to him. He's got a real flair for political spin, too. No offense, Gwendal, but spin's not your forte. Wolfram's _smooth_."

Gwendal wasn't offended – more than happy to delegate 'spin' and all manner of courtly graces to his baby brother, in fact. "Not a bad role for a Maou's consort, I suppose."

Manfred and Adelbert shared a long sad look – the others didn't know the anguish these two had spent trying to find within themselves a role as Maou's consort, to Cecilie and Suzanna Julia.

"Better him than me," said Manfred viciously, in a tone that would have fooled almost anyone. Adelbert pursed his lips. Each in his own weird way, the lifelong friends so far seemed doomed to being one-woman men. Manfred caught this byplay and scowled. "By the way, Gwendal, I haven't seen Anissina around."

"She'll be back soon with her brother's family," said Gwendal, bristling."Thought you had a _date_ this time around, Manfred."

"I asked her to marry me, she turned me down." Manfred shrugged, clearly not put out by her refusal. "Anissina, though… she's visiting the Institute quite a bit the past couple years. She gets along well there. Brilliant woman… I assume you're dating humans out there in the beyond, Adelbert?"

Adelbert shrugged. "Nothing serious. Had something going a few years back, but… She was a pirate. I thought she'd turned into something else, but... The human-Mazoku trade opened up, and she was just chock full of ideas how to prey on it. I sent her packing."

"Well, that sucks," said Manfred. Gwendal still looked hung up on the Anissina thing. _So do something about it, junior. _"…Well, let's see, we've already assassinated Wolfram's character. How about the _other one?_"

"Fine by me," said Adelbert affably, with a pointed glance at Manfred. "I'm already an exiled traitor, after all. I was amused to get a wedding invitation. Gwendal, what exactly is my official status these days?"

"Unspoken amnesty," Gwendal growled. "Don't make an issue of it."

"I think that means you're _useful_," laughed Ted. "Congratulations, Adelbert."

"Could get dicey at the Ten Aristocrats meeting though…" Brendan said softly. "I'll back you if you want to come, Adelbert, you know that…"

"This summit's gonna be hell," Ted agreed. "Peace with the humans is alright so far as it goes, but ever since Wolfram's… abduction… relations between the Maou and the domain lords have been going downhill _again_ over the human thing. Manfred, maybe you could talk some sense intoYuuri about this? I'm sure Wolfram's trying, but…"

"_Me?! _What the hell? Gwendal's problem, surely."

"I bet he'd _hear _you and Adelbert, though, Manfred," said Brendan. "You're outside the lords, but know us like the back of your hand. And sorry, but – you're both intimidating enough to make him _listen_. Wolfram and Gwendal mean well, but they're bewitched."

"Besotted, for sure," Manfred chuckled. "But count me out. I've got personal business with both of them this week. I don't need politics, too."

Adelbert, however, looked thoughtful. "I'll do it. He'll hear me. Julia within him… she'll hear me. We can't let twenty years ago happen again."

Belatedly, Gwendal got it. Perhaps Yuuri's strange charisma and strength of conviction _had_ bewitched him. Even _Wolfram_ had taken him aside and warned him that increasing Mazoku protection against humans needed to top the summit agendas. These men were serious. The anti-human wars of twenty years ago had torn Shin Makoku apart, destroyed his mother's reign as Maou, laid waste to a generation which still, as Phoebe had pointed out, was a good century or so away from being replaced. And these men were no hot-heads or idiots – they were smart men whose opinions he respected among the most in the kingdom, and they were among his best friends. This was serious indeed.

"…I'd appreciate the help, Adelbert," Gwendal said slowly. "Maybe I have let this get out of hand." Adelbert nodded.

-oOo-

Efram finally found his way to Manfred's room a couple hours before dawn. He left the requested letter on Manfred's nightstand, and started to turn and leave. The letter was actually from his stepfather, telling him to get the hell out of his house.

"Hey, Efram, don't go," said a sleepy Manfred. "C'mere." He held out his arms, looking Efram in the eye through the gloom until Efram caved and fell into his father's embrace.

"I'm sorry, Chichiue…"

"Shh. Nothing to be sorry for. You're a great kid, Efram. And I'd _love_ for you to live with me." Efram twitched in his arms, breaking Manfred's heart. He sighed. "…But I meant it. I know you love your mother and half-sister and half-brother. And that's your home… If you want, I'll try to help you straighten this out. Just know… Well. You're always welcome with me. And Pixie? Don't do anything rash. Don't hurt _yourself_ over some crap from your stepfather. Please?"

"Hahaue's not going to adopt Aunt Dierdra's baby. Is she," sniffed Efram.

"…I don't think I'd agree to that now, no," murmured Manfred. "I doubt it's even an open offer anymore. I suspect… it was the idea of two stepsons that made your stepfather flip out. Son… this may have very little to do with you. Though, that doesn't really make it any better, does it?"

"…I thought he loved me too, Chichiue," Efram sobbed into his chest.

Manfred rubbed his back soothingly. "Hey, it's late. Climb in under the covers, Pixie. You'll be OK. We'll all be _fine_."

-oOo-

Yeah, yeah, still no pirates. They came and went and we didn't meet any yet. Sorry – but at least all the major components of the plot are in the air. Now let's see if I can juggle them…

I love reviews… They encourage me to write more. And this one is by no means written already. Suggestions welcome.

_Please review._


	3. Ethel the Pirate's Daughter

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 3 : Ethel the Pirate's Daughter

"This one's the captain, Bob," one of the pirates said to their leader on shore. Cheri's captain, Horatio, was roughly thrown to his knees before Bob, a billiard-ball bald man who looked to be around sixty, with a zillion crude tattoos, quite visible since he wore nothing but knee-length britches. He was burned dark brown by the late summer sun, especially on his shiny pate. Were Yuuri here, the quality of tattoo artistry would have reminded him of the wanted-criminal-eloper posters in the deserts of Suberia.

"Whose ship is it?" Bob demanded. "Yours?"

Horatio said nothing. The pirate kicked him in the jaw. "I said, _whose ship is it?_" Horatio looked away, and stayed mum.

"It's mine," said Cheri loudly, from the back of the open-air bit of roofing that seemed to serve as the pirates' meeting hall. Most of the men had been thrown into a warehouse by the shallow rocky harbor. But the captain, the women, and the men who clung most tightly to them, were brought before the leader.

Bob motioned the woman be brought forward, and the captain be taken back. Horatio looked at Cheri in concern, but she kept her eye on the pirate leader.

"You're a rich man's mistress or something, eh?" Cheri smiled coyly. "And the rest of these?" He indicated the Shibuyas, Flurin, Giesela, and Murata.

Cheri shrugged. "Friends."

"Bitch!" He slapped Cheri across the face. His rings cut her cheek. "I know the green-haired one is a Mazoku healer. Who are the rest of them? And what's with these weird-looking _black-haired_ people?"

"Healing assistants," said Murata, in falsetto, clinging to Giesela. He was still wearing Yuuri's cherry-blossom wedding kimono. Flurin elected to clutch Giesela as well, since their dresses matched.

The pirate leader frowned, looking Murata up and down. "You're an ugly one, aren't you? Take the glasses off." One of the pirates grabbed Murata's glasses and ground them into the floor. "Hmph. Not much of an improvement. Where's Ethel?"

"Here, Daddy," said a red-haired beauty, shoving her way into the hall. She looked to be about thirty, and carried a large baby on her hip. Unlike most of the women in the pirate town, who wore drab shifts, Ethel wore britches, lace-up vest, and a sword, and almost as many tattoos as her father. Her red hair flowed, bound loosely by parts in thin braids, down to her waist. The baby was strawberry blonde. Cheri narrowed her eyes at the child.

"It was your damned idea to catch these people. What's the plan?" the pirate leader asked his daughter.

"Bind them all with the houjutsu crystals," she ordered the pirates. She pointed to Giesela, "The green-haired one, we sell in Small Cimmarron. Mazoku healer slaves are worth a mint on the black market – they can heal stuff no human can. She looks my age, but she's been studying for a century at least – knows _everything_." She paused and considered Cheri and the others at length. "These might be dangerous."

"Why?" said her father, looking Cheri up and down, with a leer.

Ethel picked up a stick and toasted one end in the torch by her father. She looked Cheri in the eye. "You're a Mazoku aristocrat, aren't you? Rich bitch with a fancy yacht. You see my daughter is blonde, too, don't you?" She removed the stick from the torch and blew out the flame, leaving a red ember on the end. She marched up to Cheri, now wearing large houjutsu crystals around her neck, making her woozy. "That's right. She's a Mazoku aristocrat's bastard." She held the ember to the baby's bare back. "Tell me who you are or I'll burn her."

"_No!_" cried Cheri. "Don't hurt the child…"

Ethel shoved the baby into Cheri's arms – Cheri immediately clutched the baby to her bosom and rested her injured cheek on the strawberry-blond hair. "My name is Cheri Zezille. I'm mistress to Lord Gwendal von Walde, the Maou's advisor."

"Hm. And the black-haired ones?"

"My servants – Shouma, Miko, and Shouri. And the healer's assistants. I'm just giving the healer a ride back to Shin Makoku."

"This crap mean anything to you, Ethel?" demanded the pirate leader.

"Mm, the blonde here ought to be worth a mint in ransom. These others… Sell the assistants with the healer, I guess, and put the rest of them to work."

"My Lord Gwendal will be willing to ransom _all_ of us," said Cheri. "There's no need to split us up."

"Too dangerous," said the pirate leader. "_All_ the ransoms are too dangerous. Just sell off the healer and the boat, keep the women and a few of the men as slaves, and kill the rest. They might be too important – we could have Caloria _and_ Shin Makoku coming down on us."

"Wait, Dad. I hear the new Maou, the king of Shin Makoku, is a wimp, real soft on criminals. If she's only some aristocrat's mistress, they'll just pay the ransom, and not attack us. We ought to move the sand-bear, though, hide the yacht between Retchwater and Gagwater."

"Not deep enough. Best we could do is put it partway behind the Deathwater headland. It'll still show from the channel, but… people'll think it just pulled in for some water."

The pirates chuckled darkly at that.

"Well, just lock 'em up for tonight," said Ethel. "I'm going to have to think about how to do the ransoms."

The pirate leader chuckled. "We'll lock up the men. I think I'll keep these girls out to _play with_ for a while first."

Ethel strode over and slapped him across the face. "You're not going to rape my captives, asshole. They're _mine_, you hear me?"

"Why, you –", the leader stopped himself with an effort, glowering at her. "Why the hell not? What is your _problem_ these days, Ethel? Ever since you came back from Dai Cimmaron pregnant, you've got all these crazy ideas…"

"_And I've. Got. A Sand Bear._ _My_ sand bear. _My_ prisoners. _My_ plan. Got it?" Ethel stared her father down. "Hurt them, and this Lord Gwendal will overrule the wimp Maou and wipe us off the map. Rape any of them and I'll slit your throat, you old monster." Ethel turned on her heel to stalk away.

"Hey, Ethel," he called after her. "You forgot your _retard._"

Ethel shrugged. "She can keep it." Ethel walked away, leaving the baby in Cheri's arms.

-oOo-

Locked back in the warehouse, the wedding party huddled close, as far from the guards' hearing as they could get, and spoke very softly.

"I don't understand," complained Miko. "Why did you say you were Gwendal's mistress instead of telling them the truth? Why did that awful woman threaten to burn this baby? And what did she mean about _my sweet Yuu-chan being a wimp_?"

They all said, "_Shhhh!_" as Miko's voice rose in indignation on this last. She _hrumph_'d and took the baby from Cheri to cuddle.

"We're too important," said Cheri quietly. "_Way_ too important. Even Gwendal's mistress is pushing it, as you heard. If they knew who we _really_ are, they'd know that either we die, or they die – or at least, they'll think that's true. Please, Miko, whatever happens, we cannot let anyone know you're related to the Maou. Absolutely no one can know that I'm the previous Maou, or that Flurin is leader of Caloria. If they find out _any_ of that,_ all _of our lives are forfeit."

Miko nodded reluctantly and nuzzled the baby. "Do you think it's hers? How could she, that awful woman!"

Shouri said, "I'm not sure she's our enemy, Kaa-san. She may not be our friend, either. But she did forbid any rape. And… she didn't harm the baby. She just… gave it to Cheri."

Murata stared at Shouri. _That sounded downright – Yuuri-like._

Cheri nodded thoughtfully. "Such lovely aquamarine eyes… She looks a bit like her grandmother."

Shouma asked in surprise, "Her grandmother?"

"Sophie von Gratz, I believe. I imagine this is Adelbert's daughter." Murata and Giesela nodded that she was likely right, but the Shibuyas didn't know these people. "Sophie von Gratz is Wolfram's father's aunt – an inseparable sister of Wolfram's grandmother Phoebe von Bielenfeld. Adelbert von Gratz is a blond, and the most likely '_Mazoku aristocrat_' in Dai Cimmaron two or three years ago, to father this baby. You'll meet them all when we get home."

Shouma frowned. "The baby only looks about nine months old."

"No," said Cheri sadly, "this is a half-Mazoku baby, like my Conrad. She's about two now. That's why Ethel's father called the poor darling a '_retard_'."

Shouri asked, "Do you think this Adelbert person… treated her badly?"

"Absolutely not," said Cheri. "Adelbert… was Wolfram's father's best friend. Well, Adelbert's a long story, but, no. I'm sure he would _never _mistreat a woman. I wonder if he even knows this little darling exists."

-oOo-

In the morning, the pirates sent a ransom letter to Shin Makoku, demanding a vast sum for the return of Lord Gwendal von Walde's mistress Cheri Zezille and her servants. Ethel sent the ransom note by homing pigeon to an agent in Dai Cimmaron, to be entrusted to a go-between.

Cheri cared for the strawberry-blonde baby while Miko cooked. Theoretically they were sharing both chores, but Cheri had never cooked a meal in her life. Cheri had impressed on all the humans and earth-Mazoku the need to act as though the houjutsu crystals were making them ill. For Cheri, of course, it was no act at all – just dragging one foot in front of the other made her nauseous. Yuuri's mother Miko, she sadly noted time and again, was no actress. Cheri stuck to her son's mother-in-law-to-be like glue, fearing their greatest danger lay in the Japanese woman's charming direct honesty.

A slow round-bottomed boat was dispatched to Small Cimmarron, with the healer Giesela and her two assistants aboard, for sale. A pirate aboard that ship was entrusted with the task of finding a buyer for one very fancy yacht, which was still placidly being held captive by a trained sandbear, just behind a headland off the shipping lane.

-oOo-

"We need to visit the yacht," demanded Giesela in her very best drill-sergeant tones, as the rolling tubby pirate ship pulled out of Sweetwater harbor. There were six pirates aboard – the odds would never be better. "I need my healing herbs. And my assistant needs her spare glasses. And we all need normal clothes!"

The ship's captain, Jemmy, slapped her. Giesela went flying, unable to compensate for the blow on a wallowing ship in her stupid straight skirt. "None of that lip, bitch!"

Giesela spat from her place on the deck, raising herself on her elbows. "You can't sell us for top price if we're knocked around, unable to see, or work, and I don't have my _tools!_"

"Ethel's not here," pointed out one of the other pirates. "I say we rape these bitches – makes 'em much quieter."

Jemmy considered it eagerly, but reluctantly decided, "Nah, they get all _dead-eyed_ and sell for shit after you rape 'em. Ethel's right – the bitch."

"My herbs and my assistant's glasses!" insisted Giesela.

"Alright, alright, just _shut the fuck up_ already!" said Jemmy, and kicked her in the gut. Murata and Flurin helped her up and huddled with her out of the pirate's way.

The tubby ship wallowed its way to the yacht. Between the motion of the boat and the houjutsu crystals reacting with Mazoku physiology, Giesela had to vomit three times over the side, even in that short distance. Murata and Flurin did their best to mimic her distress.

Turning against the wind on a dime – with no keel, the boat turned well, it was going _straight_ that gave it trouble – the pirates easily hooked their way up to the side of the yacht, and started climbing the yacht's normal boarding rope net up the wall of the taller ship. Giesela hung back with Flurin and Murata as long as she dared, but all was quiet. The pirates expected a deserted yacht, and that's what it seemed to be. The last two pirates forced the trio onto the rope ladder before them and ascended.

Once everyone was climbing the rope net, Yozak sprang the trap. The entire rope net snapped into the air, the six pirates and three friends dangling from the main yard at about eye height. Yozak kept it bouncing to interfere with the pirate's frantic attempts to cut their way out, while he cut a hole for Giesela, Murata, and Flurin to fall out. Murata, with help from Flurin, dove immediately belowdecks to get his glasses.

"I _knew_ I wanted to stay off that net," complained Giesela. "Good work, Yozak."

Yozak grinned. "Welcome back. We still have six alive here – your sword's right where you left it. Let's get busy, sergeant."

Despite her dress and nausea, Giesela managed to run through one of the pirates in the throat, while Yozak gave soon-fatal gut jabs to two more. But captain Jemmy and two others managed to work their way out the hole Yozak had cut for his friends, and leapt for the tub.

"Damn!" said Yozak. "Hurry up, ladies!" Murata and Flurin – Murata now in shorts and T-shirt and his glasses, but dainty Flurin still ruched in pink – emerged onto deck just as Yozak and Giesela jumped onto the tub to fight the remaining three pirates. One got in a good slash to Giesela's thigh before she ran him through. Jemmy and the sales rep, Bart, reached the correct conclusion about their chances against huge Yozak, tossed their swords, and dove in, to swim toward Deathwater island.

Yozak took a boarding hook, with rope, and managed to snag the sales rep, hauling him in and slitting his throat, but it took time. Jemmy was well on his way, swimming a strong sure long-distance stroke.

"Damn! We've got to keep him from talking!" said Yozak. "Murata, help me get a rowboat down – unless you can maneuver this tub?"

"No, sorry," said Murata, hurrying to work the ropes on the tub's dinghy with Yozak. Flurin, no expert with a pirate's bowie knife, was having real trouble trying to cut the houjutsu crystals off Giesela. She'd just managed one string of them when the dinghy hit the water with a splash. Murata climbed down with the oars, while Yozak went back for the women.

"Ladies, time to _go!_" he yelled.

"But she can't fight like this!" objected Flurin, as Yozak lifted Giesela bodily and slung her over his shoulder. Flurin raced ahead of him to the dinghy.

"I disagree," said Yozak, starting down the rope ladder to the dinghy. "I think the madder she is, the better this little wildcat will fight. Right, sergeant?"

"_GAH!"_ replied Giesela, then dry heaved again from houjutsu poisoning at the sensation of Yozak dropping the last bit of distance into the dinghy, which bobbed sweetly underneath. Laid into the dinghy's bottom, Giesela promptly grabbed the bowie knife from Flurin and began hacking off her skirt below the pirate's slash to her thigh, muttering, "Wolfram von _fucking_ Bielenfeld… vain little spoiled _peacock_… _GAH!!!_"

Murata put his back into the oars as soon as Yozak was safely crouched down.

-oOo-

Wolfram was in the bedroom with his tailor, trying on the latest attempt to recreate the wedding dress he'd intended to wear. "This fabric," he said, sighing. "It's not your fault, Tyron, it's just too stiff to drape right. And it took the dye badly. I'm sorry, I know how hard you tried, but I'm not wearing this in public."

Yuuri knocked and came in, then whistled. "You look gorgeous, Wolfram!"

Wolfram shot him a grateful smile, but shook his head. "I'm wearing my Bielenfeld uniform, Yuuri. And you… are wearing your black Maou's costume. Let's focus on getting versions of _those_ glittering and beautiful, eh, Tyron?"

"Ah…" Yuuri started to argue. "My parents…"

"_Fine_, Yuuri, you wear that ridiculous kimono… _No._" Wolfram turned to the tailor, and said, "Please flash up both Yuuri and my normal state uniforms as dazzling as you can make them, Tyron. If you'll excuse us?" And Tyron bowed himself out the door quickly.

"I take it back," said Wolfram. "Not _fine_, Yuuri. Not _fine_ at all." Wolfram lay on his side on the bed, head propped up on his arm, legs curled in his cream-dyed satin ruching, and patted the bed next to him, inviting Yuuri to sit. "We're not playing dress-up for fun here, Yuuri. You're the ruler of Shin Makoku, and dressing like an absolute _idiot_ in front of the Ten Aristocrats and the Allies, is not _fine_ at all."

Yuuri ran his hand down Wolfram's side, feeling his ribs, perfect waist and hips, ass and thigh, through the slippery satin ripples. "You don't look like an idiot. You look gorgeous," he reiterated. "Wolfram… what's the matter? You were bothered last night, but…" He smiled.

They were both bothered last night, but Wolfram had laid a finger to Yuuri's lips and said, _Yuuri, it's been a miserable day. Don't talk. Just make love to me._ It was well worth it, but the lovers still hadn't discussed the Bielenfeld-Gratz dinner party from hell. Nor had Wolfram had a chance to tell him how the military summit went, while Yuuri had dessert with Greta and Beatrice and other allied friends.

Wolfram told him about the serious incident with Annette the Bielenfeld healer –Yuuri had missed all that in the general uproar at the children's table. "That's terrible, Wolfram, I feel awful for her. But, ah… what does this have to do with what we wear to our wedding?"

"Yuuri, it's a match that can start a forest fire! This isn't an isolated incident. Human crimes against Mazoku have been rising ever since you became Maou."

"Mazoku _interaction_ with humans has been rising ever since I became Maou. By far more than crimes, surely?"

"Yuuri… it doesn't _matter_. You can say 'interactions have risen three hundred percent while crimes have only risen thirty percent', or any rational argument you please. But it doesn't _matter_. Those aren't the kind of arguments that set people's hearts on fire, that make people afraid and angry. The story of one healer turned into a slave, one child raped to death, _those_ persuade people. They persuade people to _fight._"

"So, you're saying we have to take crimes against Mazoku in human lands more seriously. Alright… I don't know how we'll do that, but we'll ask. We'll ask the Aristocrats for recommendations, and we'll ask the allies for help carrying them out."

Wolfram nodded, "Good… but… More than that, Yuuri…" He sighed. "It's not going to be enough here to do the right thing. You're in serious political trouble. I'm trying to be your political advisor. My advice is – you need to_ look the part._"

"Ah… what?"

Wolfram looked at him grimly. "You need to look, and _act_, like a Mazoku champion of Mazoku interests. You cannot wear a silly human outfit to please your human mother, Yuuri. In fact… You may not need to _get_ angry at your human allies. But you may need to _act_ angry."

Yuuri got up off the bed in disgust. "I'm not going to get or act angry at anybody. Certainly not, if I don't think they've done anything wrong!"

"Yuuri!" Wolfram slumped his head down to the bed in defeat. "…And that's what I love about you. But I'm telling you, it will work against you right now. This isn't about what's _fair_, Yuuri… Argh." He sighed. "We'll wear our uniforms. Did you mean it at all when you called me your political advisor, or were you just trying to end an argument so you could get me in the sack that night?" Wolfram glowered at him menacingly.

_Well, both… _"I meant it," Yuuri said. "I know I do need your help understanding Mazoku politics. And… I'll back up your authority – you speak for me in the political arena."

"Then… I've got to look the part, too. No more _wrist-flipping_, damn Grandma anyway," Wolfram muttered, in retrospect suspecting he knew _exactly_ why canny Phoebe had yanked his chains that way.

"Huh?" said Yuuri. He'd been dealing with four giggling girls who each insisted her name was Moira at the time of the infamous _wrist-flipping._

"Never mind, you'll see. Anyway, we _both_ need to dress the part. You'll wear you uniform - will you at least promise me that?"

"You'll take the heat from my mother?" Wolfram nodded tiredly. "Then… gladly. That kimono was hideous. Though, I've got to say… I was looking forward to undoing the laces on your dress." He smiled at Wolfram. With a finger, he plucked the strings running down Wolfram's back, and kept going down the seam of the ruching below.

"Mm," purred Wolfram. "Too bad we're nearly late for our meet-the-parents dinner."

"Oh! I forgot to tell you," said Yuuri. "They're not here yet."

"What?"

Yuuri shrugged. "Hahaue's yacht was supposed to arrive around lunchtime, wasn't it? They're still not here – six hours late?"

"More like seven…" said Wolfram, worried. "Is Gwendal already on this?"

"Yeah… Nothing to do but wait for news at this point, I guess," said Yuuri. "Hopefully, they'll turn up soon. Though… in the meantime, we have an excuse to postpone the dinner, don't we?" He grinned and strummed Wolfram's laces again.

"Well, wimp, I have to say, I _wasn't_ looking forward to unwrapping you from either of those _'kimono'_-things. Your people wear _entirely_ too many layers of clothes, and they're in the _way_ when I _want_ you." Wolfram grabbed his hand and pulled Yuuri down on top of him. "I promise," he paused to kiss Yuuri, "you can unlace it," _kiss_, "after the wedding," _kiss._ "But tonight," _kiss,_ "we're still eating dinner," _kiss,_ "with Chichiue. Now get off, and let me get dressed."

-oOo-

_Please review. It will inspire me to write more… On this story, or another if this one is already done…_


	4. Lord Weller

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 4 : Lord von Weller

"And where's your lovely mother, Wolfram?" Manfred asked, as he and Yuuri sat down to the meet-the-parents dinner. "Yuuri, I'm looking forward to meeting your family."

"Ah, they're missing," said Yuuri. "Seven hours late. I see Gwendal and Conrad aren't here for dinner – they're looking into it."

Manfred stared at him, the color draining from his face. Adelbert, sitting next to him, put a hand on his shoulder. He was saved from having to say anything by Efram wandering in and sitting down.

"Chichiue, is this best-manners or family dinner?" he asked politely.

"Family," Manfred said absently.

"Cool. So, Grandma, I heard what you did to Wolfram last night. You're a hag, you know that?" This was accompanied by _wrist-flipping_, to make clear what he meant. Judging from Phoebe's casual nod, this passed for common pleasantry between the two. "Pass the potatoes, please. May I have some wine, Chichiue?"

"No you may not but thank you very much for asking."

Efram stared at him. "Who turned Chichiue into a zombie?"

"Wolfram's mother Cecilie is missing," explained Phoebe. In deference to the strained situation, Phoebe omitted the '_elder sister_' she normally placed in front of Cecilie's name to remind everyone that she was younger than Cecilie. As an afterthought, she added, "Yuuri's whole family was with her on the ship."

"Oh! I'm so sorry. That must be scary." Seeing Greta's eyes wide as saucers, he pressed on. "I apologize for missing the dinner party last night, Greta. Something came up. I hope the horde wasn't too hard on you?"

Greta looked down at her plate. They were pretty mean.

Efram said, "Brendan, help me remember. You kept the horde from picking on Wolfram when _he_ was little, right? Let's see…" He held up a finger. "One – if they snub you, that means you're more important than they are. Two – if they make fun of you for asking a question, it means they don't know the answer." Greta started to smile. "Three – what's three, again, Brendan?"

Brendan Lord Gratz smiled. "If they claim the same name, that's who's most popular."

Yuuri joined in, "Is _that_ what that means? Greta, I guess that means your uncle Efram and aunt Moira are the most popular!" Greta grinned.

Wolfram grimaced. "I _hated _those games when I was little."

Efram nodded. "They're all insider games. You're lucky, Greta. You get to meet people from all over the world. We're stuck with the same kids at the same family dinners, over and over again forever. They get shy with outsiders. Don't worry about it. Hey – Moira and I are the most popular, right? And _we_ like you!"

"She hasn't played with me," Greta said sadly.

"She's just shy," Efram said matter-of-factly. "I'll find you tomorrow with her and stay until you're comfortable, if you want. Would any time in particular be good?"

"I have a tea party with Beatrice from Cavalcade tomorrow at ten."

One would think an invitation to a girl's tea party was just what Efram most hoped for. "Yay! We'll be there!"

"Efram, are you going to tell us why you weren't at dinner last night?"

"No Aunt Sophie but thank you very much for asking."

Sophie snorted.

Gwendal, Conrad, and Günter appeared, and motioned Yuuri and Wolfram to the door for a whispered consultation. Günter departed, and Gwendal and Conrad took their seats for dinner. Everyone stared at Yuuri and Wolfram expectantly.

"Still no word," explained Wolfram. "Günter's taking Annissina's fast banana boat to Carolia to begin the search. Annissina and Dorcas are going with him. They'll arrive in Carolia before dawn."

"Do we know when Cecilie left Carolia?" asked Manfred quietly.

"Hopefully that's what Günter's going to find out," said Gwendal.

"There have been no storms," said Conrad. "Nor any… communications."

"There hasn't been time for that yet," murmured Adelbert.

The table lapsed into silence long enough that Greta decided to ask her question. "Efram? Which of those children last night are my aunts and uncles?" Yuuri looked eagerly to Efram, too – he'd yet to get a straight answer to that.

"Um. Chichiue?" Efram passed the ball.

"Ah, in the normal sense, Greta, of the ones here, only Wolfram and Efram are my children. The others… I think '_sponsor_' is a good word for it. They're officially… visiting Bielenfeld. I'm like a godfather to them."

"I'd wondered about that," murmured Conrad. "So do you '_sponsor_' half-Mazoku children like Moira… indefinitely?" Yuuri winced – he should have noticed these so-called 'siblings' of Wolfram's were in fact half-Mazoku – with Mazoku mothers.

"No… I apologize for bringing four to your wedding, Wolfram, but… they're of an age to leave Bielenfeld, so… it seemed a pleasant way to help the families with that."

"I understood, Chichiue," Wolfram murmured. "Moira is getting too big?"

"Yes. Efram and I will miss her. Her mother Mare and I have been friends for years. They're visiting Lutenberg today looking to get situated."

"Some of the other kids said mean things about humans and half-Mazoku," said Greta. "She laughed. But doesn't that hurt her feelings?"

"Yes, it does. Efram wouldn't have allowed that, but he had his own problems last night." He added to Conrad, "Aldrich chooses not to let them stay so long. Aldrich's in charge. But he often delegates the aliens at the Institute to me."

"Will Moira's _mother_ also be exiled from Bielenfeld, Manfred? Or just the child?" Conrad asked coldly.

"How dare you –" began Phoebe.

Manfred cut her off. "Both souls are Bielenfeld. I expect Mare will return later in this lifetime, and Moira in another."

"Actually," broke in Wolfram, "this discussion relates to an idea I've been developing. It's too soon yet, but… I'd like this group's feedback, if I could? I'm a little concerned what the summit tomorrow will bring." They looked curious, none more so than Yuuri. "In the political arena, I'd like Yuuri to distance himself a bit from being '_champion of humans_' or '_half-Mazoku interests_'. Surrounded by Mazoku, it's only natural, because there's no other champion for that viewpoint. But to lead the whole country effectively, I think he needs to let someone else be that champion."

"That's _crucial_," said Gwendal, to Yuuri's surprise. Brendan and Adelbert nodded emphatically. "How?"

"The idea is an Eleventh Aristocrat – whose charter would be the half-Mazoku and humans, perhaps only those in Shin Makoku proper, which has no Aristocrat other than the Maou. But, possibly, rather than a geographic domain, this Aristocrat could have a charter spanning domains."

"Conrad, of course," said Brendan. "Von Lutenberg?" he asked Conrad.

"Or von Weller – a proud human name in Shin Makoku history. What are your thoughts, Brendan?"

"Mm, decreases each of the Ten's power, and empowers the non-Mazoku population, though… not much. You'd have to be careful crafting what authority, if any, you have over residents in another Lord's domain. Suggest, but never demand. For example, Bielenfeld and Gratz have opposite approaches to half-Mazoku children. This new Eleventh Aristocrat would have to respect that."

"How does Gratz handle humans and half-Mazoku?" asked Yuuri.

"Only full Mazoku marriage is legal. But Gratz is mostly wild land, herders, remote forests. Half-Mazoku just drift to the outlands. We're pretty freedom-oriented. I couldn't keep track of what happens on the range if I wanted to. And I don't."

Wolfram nodded in thanks, and turned to his brother. "Gwendal? What are your thoughts?"

Gwendal nodded slowly. "I'll support you. I hope you have time to build a consensus, though. Manfred, how is it with Bielenfeld? Do we have time?"

"Maybe not…" replied Manfred slowly. "It wouldn't take much more to set Lord Friedrich off. So – is this concept purely for Shin Makoku internal consumption, or do you see this as helping with external human-Mazoku crimes? That's the more pressing issue – protecting Mazoku abroad."

Conrad replied, "The office of the Eleventh would be internal. But Wolfram and I were tossing around both ideas – the Eleventh Aristocrat approach, and simply being appointed to resolve human-Mazoku external conflicts."

Wolfram explained, "Anti-human sentiment is growing. I want _our_ humans and _our _half-Mazoku seen as part of the solution – the bridge, not the problem. Annette was found in Mizrat – as I was two years ago. At tomorrow's summit, I'm thinking Yuuri needs to get tough on Mizrat. At a minimum, push a Shin Makoku observer on their criminal investigation. But make it clear that if there is no progress, another… investigation in force may be forthcoming. Like the force that rescued me."

Yuuri looked a bit alarmed at this at first, then nodded slowly.

Wolfram turned to the older generation. "Grandma? Aunt Sophie? What do you think? What do you think Lord _Friedrich_ will think?"

"All good," Phoebe surprised him by saying. "He'd like all three parts – some other Aristocrat he can offload half-Mazoku on, the Maou stepping back from human affairs, but as Manfred said, most of all, a _strong_ response to Mizrat. Two _unspeakably_ evil and brutal attacks on Bielenfeld's own, our _best_, in two years, in Mizrat. Friedrich will want that paid in _blood_."

Sophie nodded, her face grim. "Yuuri – if you want the respect of the Ten Aristocrats, and especially Gratz and Bielenfeld – like Wolfram said, _get tough_ with Mizrat."

A knock at the door preceded Aldrich into the room. Although blond and emerald-eyed as his father Friedrich and Manfred and sons, Yuuri suspected he saw a von Trondheim mother in Aldrich, heir to Bielenfeld, who stood a half foot taller and wider than Manfred. Yuuri couldn't read Mazoku ages, but Wolfram had said Aldrich was about sixty years older than Manfred and Adelbert.

"Excuse me for interrupting your supper, Wolfram, Yuuri Heika," Aldrich murmured, then walked in to squat by Manfred. "There's bad news, Nephew," he said, placing his only hand on Manfred's shoulder – Yuuri didn't know how Aldrich lost his other arm at the elbow.

Manfred scowled at him, inquiring sourly, "Great-uncle?"

"Annette died. I didn't want you overhearing it in the halls – I know you were friends. I'm truly sorry, Manfred." Manfred looked like he'd taken it as a nearly physical blow. Aldrich squeezed his shoulder and gave him a moment before continuing. "I really hate to ask this, but – they said you didn't have her on suicide watch?"

"No… It was suicide, then?"

"I'm afraid so." Alrich craned his neck to speak down-table. "Aunt Phoebe, Aunt Sophie? Could I please ask that you interrupt your supper to soothe your brother? He's most upset."

The ladies rose and headed for the door. Phoebe commented, "Fat lot of good it will do. You're a perpetual _screw-up_, Manfred. Your father's rolling in his grave."

Aldrich kept a firm grip on Manfred's shoulder and held his eye. "You have no problems that couldn't be made worse by decking your mother…" This was enough to keep Wolfram in his seat as well. Efram just looked wide-eyed at Manfred.

("'Nephew'? 'Great-uncle'?" Yuuri asked Wolfram. "Shh, later," Wolfram replied.)

It had been a hideous couple of days for Manfred. Stuck with his mother and Friedrich, a baby on the way whose future was uncertain, his upset with Wolfram and Yuuri, his favorite Efram being snubbed by von Bielenfeld and kicked out by his mother, his legs aching from overuse, Cecilie missing, losing his patient and close friend – Manfred snapped.

"She's _right_," Manfred hissed viciously, tears standing in furious eyes. "Just let me _go_, Aldrich! _I've had it!_ I hate politics! I'm a useless _farce_ as a von Bielenfeld! They _hate_ me, they hate my _sons_ –"

"_Forget it_," Aldrich cut across this sharply. "You're _my_ most trusted vassal, and I'd never release you." In a slightly lighter tone, he added, "And I rather like your sons, right, fire pixie?" He smiled at Efram to reassure him. "Trust me, Manfred – this'll all come out right in time. For tonight, though, I request and require that you stay the hell away from my father, and go to bed early. Spend time with your sons, Manfred. Please?"

Manfred clenched his eyes shut mutinously, then looked away and down, and nodded that he'd obey.

Aldrich stood, still holding Manfred's shoulder. Quite sure that his aunts were out of earshot by now, he said almost casually to the others, "Since I've caught you here, Lord Walde, Lord Gratz, Lord Weller," not _von_ Walde or _von_ Gratz – he addressed each as not _a_ lord, but _the_ Lord of their domains, yet included Conrad for some reason. "I'm holding a little soirée this evening at ten, on a balcony off the ballroom. Do you think you could make it?"

Brendan, Gwendal, and Conrad nodded solemnly.

"I'll join you," said Wolfram.

"No, cousin – you and Maou Heika should also retire early tonight. The summit tomorrow could be trying, and who knows when word will arrive of your mothers?" Though stated politely, Aldrich gave Wolfram a look to remind him that he, too, was Aldrich's subordinate as a von Bielenfeld.

Yuuri could have easily overruled this high-handedness, but before he could puzzle out that the older man was sending him to bed so the grown ups could talk, Wolfram answered for the couple. "Alright, Aldrich. We'll see you at tomorrow's summit, then. I do hope you're able to calm Friedrich down."

"Trust me, cousin," Aldrich murmured reassuringly on his way out. By mutual silent assent, the others drifted out as well, to leave the upset Manfred to his sons and son-in-law to be.

-oOo-

"This pink stuff makes rotten bandages. What's this fabric made of?" complained Giesela. She was resting and changing the dressing on her thigh's sword wound, and giving it another round of healing spells. Murata kept her company. Yozak and Flurin had gone on ahead. The four had been playing hide-and-seek with Jemmy the pirate captain all over Deathwater island, all day and into the evening.

"A rock oil called petroleum," answered Murata, who rarely babbled except in front of a girl he was interested in. "There are a number of 'plastics' created from –"

"Ken, shut up." Giesela sighed. "We've got to get back to the ships, and hide the pirate one, or they'll know we've escaped and come in force. Maybe we should sail the tub back to Caloria for help."

"Good idea, but none of us can sail that well," said Murata. "I wonder how hard it is. Maybe we could 'liberate' just one or two sailors from the pirate camp. Someone not so important, so they wouldn't much notice. Though I don't know if just any sailor could get us back to Caloria in a round-bottom boat."

"Jemmy could do it, with us four as crew."

"That's it! You're brilliant, Giesela!" Murata said with a warm smile. Giesela blushed a little and looked away. "We just need to catch Jemmy alive."

"Too late," reported Yozak, as he and Flurin rejoined them. "I asked my questions and ran him through."

Murata frowned. "Yuuri wouldn't approve of killing a prisoner – he'd have found common cause, and a use for him, as Giesela just did."

Giesela, surprised, nodded thoughtfully. "As Suzanna Julia would have…"

Yozak shrugged unrepentently. "Yuuri's a wimp. You would have killed him, too, sergeant, until you had time to sit and relax. What did you want Jemmy for?"

"To show us how to sail the tub to Caloria," said Giesela sadly. "Without him… We could probably still liberate some of Cecilie's sailors from Sweetwater. And hide the ship in the meantime."

"That's a hell of a lot of work for the four of us," said Yozak thoughtfully. "Just rowing to Sweetwater and back would about do us in. And Giesela's injured… I think you three should sleep on it for a few hours. I'll swim back to the ships and just anchor them properly for now. We left the tub attached to the yacht by grappling hooks. If any weather rolls in before I get that straightened out, both ships will take a pounding."

-oOo-

After escorting Manfred and Efram to Manfred's room – Friedrich would hardly accost the _Maou,_ regardless of his feelings toward his nephew just then – Yuuri and Wolfram spent the rest of the evening on some last-minute politicking with their closest allies and friends amidst the human summit guests – of whom there were many, though Yuuri sorely missed Flurin. Yuuri was confident he'd have all the support he needed from his human allies to_ 'get tough on Mizrat'_ effectively.

Back in their room, Wolfram promptly changed into his usual pink nightgown and dove into bed, Yuuri changing a little more leisurely.

"You're not going to work more, are you, Yuuri?" Wolfram asked, having turned down the bedding for him invitingly.

"No," he smiled, and joined Wolfram in bed. Wolfram _whooshed_ out the lights with a wave of his hand. "We still haven't spoken any more with Manfred about the baby. Or what happened with Efram last night."

Wolfram said softly in the gloom, "Chichiue needed our friendship tonight, Yuuri. He doesn't take it well when he loses a patient, especially to suicide. And Annette was one of his first students as a professor. I remember her – she babysat for me when I visited Chichiue when I was little. She used to sing me to sleep. She probably sang to her little girl, too, before they… And Efram… Chichiue really was ready to throw away his rank in the aristocracy tonight."

Yuuri frowned. "That has something to do with Efram? And what was that thing about Aldrich calling him 'Nephew'? I thought they were first cousins."

Wolfram sighed. "Phoebe is Friedrich's youngest half-sister, so they're also first cousins – Oy, Yuuri. Enough family politics for tonight. I need to make appointments with you during the business day. Advising you on politics at bedtime just doesn't work. Aldrich's right about tomorrow – we need our sleep. Though I don't know how I'll turn my head off."

"Well, I know a way…" said Yuuri, gathering a pink be-nightgowned beautiful blond into his arms.

"Mm," hummed Wolfram, pulling the beautiful black-haired Maou, in his typically black silk pajamas, even closer. "And how would you do that? You think everyday old lovemaking can distract me tonight?" He threw this out as a challenge.

"No, something new… I was thinking, what it would be like if we could make a baby, like man-woman couples do, by making love?"

Wolfram glowered and shoved him hard.

"Hey, hey, love! I'm not complaining!" Yuuri nuzzled Wolfram's ear, licking the thrill spot that sent a shiver all the way down Wolfram's torso, to disarm his lover again. His hands pushed up Wolfram's thighs, pushing the pink nightgown higher before them. He murmured in Wolfram's ear, "I'm thinking… What if we made love, _imagining_ that our lovemaking is drawing our child to us? That even though I can't make you pregnant, our seed together fertilizes our hearts like a womb. Our climax togther, our feelings together, every bit of outpouring love for each other and for Greta, create our family, and that draws our baby to us like a beacon."

"Oh, Yuuri…" Wolfram moaned. "Especially a Mazoku baby. A Mazoku soul looking for a baby to be born into, finding _us_ his perfect home…"

"Ah, I hadn't thought of that. In that, I'm like you and the other full Mazoku here, aren't I? I was a Mazoku soul who found a baby, just like you."

Wolfram kissed him, his hands pushing up Yuuri's slinky pajama shirt to gain access to the nipples. "Mm, and she found the perfect one – a beautiful black-haired, black eyed boy, in a perfect home, that would help him grow up to be a wise, strong Maou. A soul just like mine, looking for the right place."

"I have good ideas, sometimes, yes?" Yuuri got rid of Wolfram's nightgown.

"You have very good ideas sometimes, yes." Wolfram got rid of Yuuri's shirt, and started ridding him of the pants as well. "You talk too much sometimes, though."

"And how are you going stop me? _Ah!_"

-oOo-

During rest breaks and Jemmy's exit interview, Yozak had made quite sure that the ships could not be seen from the pirate island of Sweetwater. When he pulled himself dripping into the yacht in the dark, the first thing he did was to hang lanterns. This both lit his work, and showed the standard signal, _request assistance,_ in case anyone happened along the sea lane nearby. Less confidently, he flew the flags of both Shin Makoku and Caloria with a lantern beneath. It was a calculated risk.

Putting up just a little sail, he managed to waddle the roly-poly pirate ship a few stone throws toward the shore from Cheri's yacht, and anchored it. Upon reflection, he decided that sandbears were perhaps not all that reliable, and there was precious little channel around there deep enough for the yacht, so he anchored Cheri's ship as well, with an anchor thrown in the direction they came in from, plus a couple to the sides of the artificial mobile sandbar that held the keel.

Well past midnight, an exhausted Yozak yanked Cheri's anchors one last time, to make sure they'd set right. He carried yet another cask of drinking water down to one of Cheri's dinghies, and cast off for the tiring row back to Deathwater. He remembered to bring Giesela's medical kit. He forgot her change of clothes.

The riders on the banana boat, hell-bent for Caloria, saw the lights. Annissina put a spy-glass to her eye, and saw the flags. At her urgent direction, Günter veered the banana boat toward Cheri's yacht.

Meanwhile, the sand bear was royally pissed off. Yozak's last anchor tug had sprung a leak in his nice dry tunnel.

-oOo-

_Please review. It will inspire me to write more… On this story, or another if this one is already done…_


	5. A Note from Ethel

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 5 : A Note from Ethel

Wolfram glared at Gwendal and Conrad the next day, during morning break in the allies and Aristocrats' summit. Due to increasing unease regarding the whereabouts of Cecilie and company, Yuuri had combined the two summits, inviting the Ten Aristocrats to participate equally with all their human allies. As the Maou's political advisor, Wolfram was wandering back and forth between the Lords and Yuuri's side. He hadn't bargained on his brothers being an impediment to him doing his job. Neither of them would say a word about Aldrich von Bielenfeld's closeted meeting last night. Neither would Brendan Lord Gratz, but that was only to be expected.

Yuuri wasn't being cooperative, either. During the first session, he'd decided unilaterally to push through Conrad's apppointment as Eleventh Aristocrat Lord von Weller, to set the tone for a new chapter in Mazoku-human relations. To Wolfram's surprise, the move won unanimous approval from the Lords and enthusiastic support from the allies. The latter wasn't so surprising. But all Wolfram knew of the former was that Yuuri said, "Gwendal and Conrad said to go ahead with it." Which left Wolfram the political advisor with his proposals being enthusiastically adopted, but without a clue as to _why_.

Manfred was ordered to attend by his aristocratic superior, Lord Aldrich, so hung out in the back reading some of Günter's recent library acquisitions. Efram decided to keep him company. Forbidden to bring _the book_ to the meeting, he was nevertheless amusing himself by sketching the assembled human allies and Lords in the nude, Manfred occasionally offering anatomical corrections to his artistic license. Efram had asked Moira's doting human father to escort her to Greta's tea party in his stead. Belatedly realizing food was on offer, the pair came up by Conrad and Gwendal to congratulate Lord von Weller, and inquire whether and when half-Mazoku placement services might be up and running.

Aldrich, overhearing, joined in. "I'm also very interested in hearing the answer to that, Lord Weller. Congratulations on your elevation to the peerage. I look forward to the chance to better serve _all_ our citizens, Mazoku and human."

"Thank you, Lord Aldrich," replied Conrad. "Manfred was telling me last night at dinner about Bielenfeld's situation. I'll be sure to seek your and Manfred's guidance on how best we can help your half-Mazoku."

Aldrich nodded his thanks, then added in an aside to Manfred, "Oh, by the way, Nephew. I've entered betrothal negotiations for you with Lord von Khrennikov. Just so you're not blindsided. You like Annissina, don't you?"

"Yes – _what?_" replied Manfred and Gwendal simultaneously. The two of them glared at each other a moment too long, and Aldrich escaped.

"Annissina's the sexy red-head who keeps visiting you, with the maniacal gleam in her eye, right, Chichiue?" asked Efram. "She'd be cool." He shrank a little closer to his father when Gwendal's glower shifted to _him_. "What'd _I_ do?"

"Chichiue, what's going on?" Wolfram tried asking _him_, with a sweet smile and eyes looking daggers.

"Politics…" sighed Manfred helplessly. "Oh, good, they're getting started again. Efram, let's go take a_ long_ bathroom break."

"I heard that. I need you _here,_ Manfred," Aldrich called to him over the crowd. Manfred grimaced and the pair trudged back to their reading and pornographic sketching. Wolfram noted, eyes narrowed, that Friedrich, Lord Bielenfeld, had never left his seat. He had been served refreshments there by his strangely attentive nephew Brendan Lord Gratz, preventing him from mingling. Friedrich's son and heir Aldrich seemed to be running an independent operation, whatever it was. Wolfram gritted his teeth in frustration. _Dammit, it's bad enough to be blindsided politically, but by my _own_ domain?_

Yuuri brought the meeting to order again when most were seated. "Friends and allies. Our next item on the agenda, is international cooperation in crime-fighting." He paused due to a general outbreak of grumbling. "I'm delighted, as I'm sure we all are, by the increase in trade and prosperity which our newfound alliance and peace has brought about. But with this increase in trade, has come an increase in criminals preying on our prosperity. I, and like-minded allies, would like to propose a new protocol for dealing more forcefully with these international crimes. Heathcrife of Calvalcade, could you please present our proposal?"

Heathcrife stood. "Thank you, Yuuri of Shin Makoku. Friends and allies, firstly I regret the absence of our co-sponsor on this proposal, Flurin of Caloria. We all hope and pray that she, too, hasn't fallen victim to international crime." He paused to let that statement gain him some moral momentum.

"We propose that in international incidents, observers from all involved countries be included on the investigating team in the country where the incident occurred. We have an example before us now. A young woman and child from Shin Makoku were abducted while visiting Cavalcade to offer her services as a Mazoku healer. This woman was apparently enslaved, her child and herself raped and tortured, the child unto death. The woman was found no longer sensible, nor capable of healing, in Mizrat. I'm afraid she has since taken her own life.

"Yuuri of Shin Makoku, I've stated before to you personally, and I wish to repeat before all present – the nation of Cavalcade extends to Shin Makoku our deepest regrets over this incident. We are shocked and saddened. We will do everything in our power to find and punish those responsible, I assure you. We invite you to send a Shin Makoku observer to join our investigation.

"However, the woman was found in Mizrat, not Cavalcade. Cavalcade also invites an observer from Mizrat to join our criminal investigation. And Cavalcade calls upon Mizrat to permit observers from both Cavalcade and Shin Makoku to join the Mizrati investigation of this case." There was a round of applause from all the allies, somewhat less from the bank of Aristocrats from Shin Makoku.

The Mizrati ambassador rose slowly. Belarus was a good man, whom Yuuri considered a friend, but fortune had not handed him a happy role today. Yuuri noticed again the scars cut into his face, part of a torture undergone by Mizrati officers to prove their fortitude. He imagined it was a lesson not soon forgotten. Yuuri, raised most of his life in peaceful and law-abiding Japan, saw those scars and wondered again what it might be that lesson taught.

"Heathcrife of Cavalcade, Yuuri of Shin Makoku, friends and allies. Mizrat welcomes observers from Cavalcade and Shin Makoku on this investigation. And we will provide observers to the Cavalcade _and Shin Makoku_ ends of the investigation. We were gladdened by the elevation of Lord Weller to spearhead human-Mazoku relations both within and outside our neighbor Shin Makoku. Lord Weller, we look forward to a new era of cooperation and goodwill across our border. I trust that our Mizrati observer will be welcomed and hosted in friendship."

Conrad nodded solemnly, attention focused. Yuuri wondered, in truth, how easy that would be for Conrad's team to accomplish. Mizrat had few friends in Shin Makoku.

Belarus turned a page on his notes, and hesitated. "Mizrat regrets that relations between our great nations have not always been so blessed with peace and goodwill. At this time we feel it necessary to revisit the last instance of criminal misconduct between our nations. A horrible crime was committed – a force of bandits crossed our frontier, overwhelmed a Mazoku troop, and took three hostages back into Mizrat, where they were…" _gang-raped_, "tortured, two unto death. There is no question that these were the actions of criminals most foul. Mizrat deplores and regrets the incident, and is glad beyond speaking that the one hostage survived, that we might all participate in the joyous event of his wedding here to Yuuri of Shin Makoku." He bowed to Wolfram. Wolfram bowed back slightly, attention focused.

"However. At that time… elements… within Shin Makoku entered Mizrat without permission or official notice, with a large armed force, to hunt down these criminals in a vigilante fashion. Mizrat requests, in the strongest terms, assurances from Shin Makoku, that such… _adventures_ in force… will not be tolerated again. If such an… _invasion_… should happen again, Mizrat will consider it an act of war, and respond accordingly." Belarus remained standing for Yuuri's response.

Yuuri hesitated. _The truth is, Mizrat is in the right._ In fact Gwendal had designed that force deliberately for deniability by the Maou, as a private enterprise by the private armies of Shin Makoku nobles. Yuuri wanted to admit the truth and apologize so badly he could taste it. Yet he thought he understood what his advisors so unanimously and emphatically told him – that he had to_ 'get tough' _with Mizrat. _Oh, the hell with it,_ he thought. _I'm walking a tightrope, but… _

"Belarus of Mizrat, I appreciate your government's concerns. Although you are right, and the armed… adventure… of our nobles two years ago into your sovereign territory was in the wrong –" There was a sharp hiss from every Mazoku in the room, especially loud from the Eleven Aristocrats and Wolfram beside him. "- I cannot truly and wholly apologize for their actions. For, as you stated yourself, those actions _saved my fiancé's life._" He nodded solemnly at Wolfram. Wolfram pursed his lips, furious.

"In truth, there is no other excuse," Yuuri continued. "They did what they did, because they believed that any more… diplomatically palatable… approach would result in the deaths of our hostages. I hope they were right – the alternative is painful to contemplate – so I have to believe that we did the best we could, to _save our people_." The general level of hiss and grumble was growing from the Eleven Aristocrats, and Wolfram's face was set like stone. Yuuri was being too soft on Mizrat.

Yuuri pressed on, against the increasing sensation, emanating in waves from the audience, that he'd gone terribly wrong here. "If it should become necessary again, an… expedition… of that ilk might well happen again. Our guiding goal, in joint criminal investigations, and the exchange of observers, should be to build the kind of truly effective cooperation between our police forces, that would make that kind of armed intervention moot, because we have built trust and relationships, that will yield better results than armed expeditions could hope for." Belatedly realizing that last sentence had escaped his control and landed quite flat, Yuuri finally grasped what Wolfram had been telling him. This logic had no power to soothe an angry heart.

Belarus, face also set like stone, said, "You understand that such an armed expedition would lead immediately to war between Mizrat and Shin Makoku?"

"Yes," said Yuuri, sadly noticing that any other point had been missed. "Do you understand that by cooperation in criminal investigation, such… eventualities… are fully avoidable?"

Belarus didn't choose to respond to that, saying instead, "The last invasion of Mizrat by Shin Makoku forces was carried out by so-called '_private armies'_ of your Lords, is that right?" He gestured to the Eleven, whose general level of hiss, grumble, and outright growl was rising. "Can you as leader of Shin Makoku assure us that such… _unauthorized invasions_… will not be carried out in the future by your Lords?"

"_No he CANNOT_," yelled Friedrich Lord Bielenfeld, on his feet. By custom, as the eldest of the now-Eleven Aristocrats, Friedrich was the spokesman. Yuuri belatedly realized that this was a role forever denied the Eleventh. In fact, pretty much all the avenues by which the Aristocrats held power over each other were unavailable to a half-Mazoku Eleventh, which perhaps explained in part why, as a group, they weren't terribly concerned about giving Conrad a little token power. No doubt this was a factor Wolfram would have weighed into the balance had he been given time to fine-tune his proposal, instead of having it taken from him and implemented in a rush.

"And you are Lord … ?" Belarus inquired of Friedrich.

"_Bielenfeld_," Wolfram supplied stone-faced to Belarus, who winced.

Friedrich chose to introduce _himself_ anyway. "I am Lord Friedrich von Bielenfeld. This '_latest incident_' you speak of, was _my_ citizen Annette, offering her Mazoku gift of healing not in pursuit of profit, but purely for _humanitarian_ aid in Cavalcade. This '_unauthorized invasion_' you speak of two years ago was a _rescue party_, to save _my_ troops, _my_ great-nephew Wolfram." Friedrich pointed to Wolfram with his whole arm. "Among the troops who saved him were _mine_, with _my_ blessing. His _father_ Manfred, my _nephew_," the full pointing arm traveled an arc to skewer Manfred where he sat in the back, very much paying attention now, "lost his leg to a Mizrati ambush. _His _father, _my_ beloved first grandson and heir Wolfred, lost his _life_ on the Mizrati frontier.

"I have _HAD IT_ with Mizrat, sir! Mizrat_ WILL NOT_ _KILL_ another of my people without armed response!"

Yuuri looked at Wolfram's face, still carved in stone, and finally fully understood what his lover was trying to tell him. He had needed to get tough on Mizrat before his lords mutinied, and got tough on Mizrat themselves, and the Maou lost control of the leadership of the country. And Friedrich, whom Yuuri had unintentionally discounted as just a fussy old man, was in fact the second most powerful man in the country – if in fact Yuuri was more powerful than him at all. _I'm so sorry, love. For your own and your family's personal losses in Mizrat, as well my own screw-up just now._

Yuuri was still trying to figure out how to regain control of this debacle, when a messenger presented him with an urgent note. He almost ignored it, given the critical juncture in front of him, but he glanced at it first. All color drained out of his face.

"_SIT DOWN_, Lord Bielenfeld," Yuuri said, in a deep voice, loud and clear as a bell.

To Wolfram's horror, Yuuri began to glow. He grew taller, his hair lengthened, and his voice deepened, until Yuuri was speaking to the assembly in true Maou mode. Over the years, Yuuri was gaining some mastery over Maou mode. He now remembered what he did and said as Maou, and even claimed some conscious control in that mode, though Wolfram had his doubts on that score. Still, Maou mode tended to yield the kind of localized meteorological disaster that Wolfram never wanted to happen to his beautiful ballroom, especially not when crowded with important guests.

Friedrich von Bielenfeld literally fell back to his seat. The entire room hushed. Very few allies or Aristocrats had personally witnessed Yuuri going Maou before. They _listened_.

"_I have just now received a ransom note_," said the glowing Yuuri Maou, holding it high in the air. "_Pirates hold hostage my wedding guests – Flurin of Caloria. Our own treasured castle healer. Shin Makoku's Great Sage. My fiance's mother. And my father, mother, and elder brother. These pirates are criminals, and they will meet my justice!_

"_Gegen Huber! As Lord Weller's newly appointed heir and proxy, you will coordinate the exchange of observers with Cavalcade and Mizrat. You will treat their observers with the utmost respect, and demand the same for our own!_

_"Friedrich Lord Bielenfeld! You, and all the Aristocrats of Shin Makoku, WILL OBEY my word as Maou!_

_"Belarus of Mizrat! You will find and punish the criminals responsible for the torture and deaths of the healer Annette and her child, or you will know our wrath!_

_"All of you! Know that I WILL pursue justice! That I WILL hold the lives and well-being of victims more sacred than treaties! Therefore, be sure to seek justice diligently, or you WILL know the wrath of Shin Makoku!_

_"Now I must seek the safe release of our hostages. This meeting is ADJOURNED."_

As Yuuri's glow faded and hair and stature gradually sank to normal, Wolfram let his breath out explosively. Yuuri had actually managed to keep Maou-mode under control for once – not a single water dragon drowning the ballroom. He didn't even faint.

"Wolfram, Gwendal, Conrad, Teodor von Trondheim. With me," Yuuri ordered, and headed out of the ballroom toward the situation room.

-oOo-

"May I be excused yet, my liege?" Manfred inquired sarcastically of Aldrich in the general uproar of those remaining in the ballroom to discuss what the hell just happened.

Aldrich clapped him on the shoulder. "Yes, you may, Nephew. You're not even going to ask why you were here, are you? You know, Manfred, I think that's one of the things I love about you." He wandered off to eavesdrop near Heathcrife of Cavalcade and Belarus of Mizrat.

"You're welcome," Manfred said sourly to his back. "Efram, go play somewhere."

"But I want to know, too!"

"I'll tell you what I find out. But I'm not supposed to be there. I can push my way in solo, but if you go, we'll both get kicked out."

"Can I go down to castle town?" Efram wheedled.

"Castle and garrison _only_," Manfred compromised. "No town or port." He looked over Efram's best Bielenfeld Aristocrat cadet uniform, which as an unlegitimated son, he wasn't really qualified to wear. "Change first, please. Though… you should stick to a Bielenfeld uniform if you don't want to be snubbed by the other Aristocrats' kids."

"They'll snub me anyway," Efram said, and darted off through the crowd.

At his usual hobbling pace, Manfred arrived at the situation room about five minutes after the others, who were deep in debate. Since permission to join them would be denied, he didn't ask for it, instead simply walking in without pausing at the door.

"Wolfram, may I see the note?" he asked quietly. Gwendal and Ted looked like they were considering kicking him out, but Wolfram handed him the note to read.

_**To Lord Gwendal von Walde, Blood Pledge Castle, Shin Makoku**_

_**We hold your mistress, Cherry Zezille, and her servants hostage. If you want them back alive, deliver 50,000 daistra to our agent in Dai Cimmarron by August 5**__**th**__**, or we'll sell them all as slaves.**_

_**Ethel**_

_Well done, love_, thought Manfred in relief. _They bought it. And only 50,000 daistra – half the cost of that shiny yacht of yours. Of course, the boat probably isn't included…_

"– We should have executed that messenger," Gwendal was saying.

"I'd just as soon have my mail delivered promptly, if it's all the same to you," Yuuri retorted.

Manfred crossed to the window, opened it, and spotted a child. He threw down a silver piece. "Trenton! I need your uncle Adelbert up here, quick as you can."

"Manfred, why are you _here_, and inviting _others_, no less," demanded Gwendal, still pissed over the betrothal negotiations for Annissina's hand.

"It's alright, Gwendal," said Yuuri. "Is Trenton one of your 'children', Manfred-sensei?" A silence fell and all of them stared at Yuuri.

"Trenton is the heir von Gratz, Brendan's son," said Manfred, with no particular rancor. The professor had vast experience in dealing with the stunning stupid spots in otherwise adequate students. "There aren't that many. Wolfram, maybe you could write down the names of alleleven Lords for Yuuri to memorize one week, and their heirs the next. Gwendal, I just want to ask if Adelbert knows this 'Ethel'. There isn't much time."

"August 5th is in two weeks," said Yuuri, puzzled. "The wedding's already a lost cause."

"Yuuri… they have only until their captors realize that 'Cherry Zezille' is _not _Gwendal's mistress, and your parents are _not_ her servants," Manfred pointed out quietly. "The minute their captors realize their hostages are too hot to handle, they're _dead._"

"That's for sure," Adelbert said, arrived and paying off a gaggle of children their finder's fees on Manfred's behalf. "Let me see the note, Manfred." He read it quickly and echoed Manfred's thoughts. "Well done, Cecilie! Yeah, Ethel's my ex-girlfriend. No idea where they're based though. Not Dai Cimmarron… but, well, somewhere in the Dai Cimmarron – Caloria – Small Cimmarron region, by the accent."

"Charming company you keep," Wolfram said sourly. Adelbert ignored him.

A map of the passage between Caloria and Shin Makoku was already on the table, of course. So far, Adelbert's input had narrowed it down to about a third of the passage's length. Manfred studied the map. "But how the hell would they _catch_ her? Cheri can outrun _anything_ in that yacht." Wolfram noticed that his father had dropped his normally chilly habit of calling his mother _Cecilie_. "Talk to us about this Ethel, Adelbert."

"Oh, gorgeous, long red hair, tattoos… really stupid-looking tattoos, but I've never seen their style anywhere else."

"Draw them for me?" asked Manfred. Adelbert sketched a couple, but Manfred shook his head. Yuuri frowned. They reminded him of the eloper-wanted posters in Suberia, but he couldn't imagine how that would help. Suberia was a northern neighbor of Mizrat, and east of Shin Makoku – nowhere near the sea route to Caloria.

Adelbert continued. "Like I told you last night, Manfred – Ethel got real interested in how to prey on Mazoku when peace started breaking out under Yuuri, especially what Mazoku healers could be worth. Were there any healers aboard?"

"Giesela von Krist," said Conrad. "She was visiting friends in Caloria."

Adelbert winced. "Well, that'll help – Ethel was probably trying to catch _her_, so didn't really think about the others… Um, for a pirate she had a lot of forward-looking notions, I guess. How rape and battery of hostages was simply bad for business. I think she'd had a falling out with her father about that, and that's how she wandered into our group. So… that's good, unless her father won the argument. Or she hooked up with a different group… Oh. And she had a sand bear."

"A _trained_ sand bear?" asked Manfred.

"Yeah, I didn't even know that was possible. Damnedest thing. Why?"

"These islands… The names Deathwater, Gagwater, Retchwater, Sweetwater ring any bells?"

Adelbert nodded slowly. "She said their bread and butter was poaching people who landed for water – but the water was poisonous on all but one island. Could be them."

Manfred nodded, and called, "Efram, I know you're out there." Efram came in sheepishly. "Get me the navigation charts for this stretch from the library, I want to check something." Efram ran off on his errand. Yuuri was impressed – he himself would have no idea where to look for such a thing in the library. But then, Efram was three times his age, and had three professors for parents.

Adelbert shook his head in amusement. "Fill the rest of us in, Manfred. You jump ahead so fast no one can keep up."

"Cheri's yacht – part of why she can run like hell is her wind majutsu. But to make the most of that, she needs leverage – the keel. Her yacht has an incredibly deep keel for a boat that size. She has only about 6 feet clearance at mean low water in this stretch by the islands. Hah. It's just a theory, but I think Ethel caught her with a sandbar built by a sand bear."

"How do you _know_ this stuff, Manfred?" asked Gwendal.

"He was a fantastic aide," said Adelbert, once General of Shin Makoku. "Never forgets a damned thing, and can make connections no one else can see."

"Being able to heal your sword wounds didn't hurt either," said Manfred. To Gwendal, he said, "I bought Cheri that yacht, remember? When we found she was pregnant with Wolfram. I wanted the keel four feet deeper, but the shipmaker balked – part of the reason was the passage to Caloria – right there."

"What do you want the navigation charts for, Manfred?" asked Ted von Trondheim. Also once Adelbert's right hand man, he'd seen Manfred's mind in action before.

"Mm, could be nothing, might be something. Tell me, Yuuri – I know Cheri can act her part forever. If she says she's Gwendal's mistress," he snorted, "then no one would ever doubt her. But how about your family?"

"Ah…"

"Yuuri's mother is delightful," said Conrad. "Honest, open, speaks her mind, not an acting bone in her body. You'd love her, Manfred."

"That's… unfortunate." He sighed. "Giesela's not exactly subtle, either, is she…"

Efram returned with the navigation charts, which Manfred effortlessly flipped to the right page. He nodded and chuckled softly. "Round-bottomed tubs. That's all they could use. The only harbor, and the only channels out of this island group, are barely deep enough for a _barge_."

"And that tells us…?" Adelbert prompted.

"Hm? Oh. Well, all they've got is really _distinctive_ ships. To get to Dai Cimmarron and Small Cimmarron and Caloria, they'd need ridiculously large round-bottomed ships – wallowing tubs with no keels to speak of. And, then they've got Cheri's yacht, temporarily. But they can't keep anything with a real keel for long – no moorage. For you guys, paint Cheri's yacht red and it's unrecognizable, but you're not qualified to buy a boat like that, are you? Anyone who _is_ qualified, would recognize it in a second. Its keel is sized for a ship, oh, two or three times the tonnage." He laughed, remembering. "Runs like hell before the wind. I remember its maiden voyage – on just this route, back from Caloria, Cheri opened it up. We made it in ten hours – half the usual time. You looked so green when I climbed the mainsail. Remember that, Gwendal?"

For a moment, Manfred looked just like Wolfram at his most happy. Yuuri could picture him as a healthy young man in love, climbing the rigging, whooping at how fast his girlfriend's new boat could fly before the wind, the boat he'd bought her, dreams of sailing the world together, in love forever, dancing in his mind. He'd been told Manfred and Cheri had never wanted to stay together, but perhaps their confidante Suzanna Julia within him knew better. Yuuri surprised Wolfram by putting a hand on the small of his back, and smiling at him. Wolfram smiled back uncertainly, in question, but Yuuri just shook his head lightly. _I'll tell you later, love._

Ted von Trondheim grinned at Adelbert, and took his turn prompting Manfred. "And that tells us…?"

"Hm? Oh, well, you want to tell all the ports to be on the lookout for those two kinds of ships. Well… if you believe this theory, but… I think it's worth covering your bases until around August 3rd, and then if this doesn't pan out… hopefully they're still alive to ransom. But I think they're still right there – Sweetwater Island."

"Because?" prompted Gwendal.

"Why would they hide anywhere else?" returned Manfred. "No one can reach them where they are. No one knows where they are – theoretically. When it comes time to transfer the hostages – if they're honest and really intend to _deliver _the hostages in return for the ransom, always iffy – " the military men nodded sadly at that, "– they'll need to do it in two stages – take a tubby-boat, probably to Caloria or Small Cimmarron, then transfer to a less distinctive ship to sail into Dai Cimmarron, so they can't be tracked. In the meantime, they'll stay put. Though – the note only offered Cheri and her servants. The rest may be up on the auction block, then. Definitely worth putting a reward out for sightings of oversized round-bottom boats and a strangely deep-keeled fancy yacht."

"And I'll go with you," Adelbert offered to Yuuri. "Might come in handy talking to Ethel. Strange that she signed her name." He frowned. "Manfred? Any ideas on that?"

Manfred shook his head. "She's your ex-girlfriend, _you_ get inside her head." He chuckled darkly. "Gwendal, do be sure to bring the note along for your _mistress_. Cecilie will doubtless appreciate being sold for only _50,000 _daistra." Yuuri noted sadly that the evil green-eyed demon smile was back, and he called her Cecilie. Manfred himself didn't offer to come. The happy young blond who climbed the rigging as the yacht sailed full-out, would find it difficult to hobble across the deck in a mild wind these days, and he had pressing family concerns here, with Dierdra nearly at term.

"Right, then," said Yuuri. "Ted, you set the rewards with the gang in the ballroom. The rest of us sail for Sweetwater as soon as we can."

"You're leaving the _fully assembled Lords_ here unsupervised?" warned Manfred.

"I'm going to rescue my family," insisted Yuuri. Wolfram nodded fiercely – to hell with the kingdom, they would save their mothers.

Gwendal told Manfred, "It's alright. Aldrich's taking care of it."

"Ah… Gwendal? Could you explain that statement?" asked Yuuri plaintively. Wolfram nodded, arms crossed on his chest.

"No."

"It's best you don't know," added Conrad kindly.

-oOo-

_Please review. It will inspire me to write more… On this story, or another if this one is already done…_


	6. Miko's Mouth

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 6 : Miko's Mouth

"What the…" Yozak, about three quarters of the way to Deathwater's shore, rubbed tired eyes with rather blistered hands and looked again. It wasn't his imagination – a long yellow shape was coasting in to the yacht. "Ha! Annissina's banana boat! Aw, hell, I have to row back out there again…" Sighing, Yozak turned the dinghy around.

Once they'd brought the banana aboard, Annissina and Günter hastened to the binnacle, while Dorcas headed below-decks to see if everyone was simply sleeping, it being two am. Yozak had left succinct but detailed notes on the state of play here in the islands. They were still reading when Dorcas, having found no one downstairs, spotted the dinghy heading toward them. Once Yozak was aboard, they all took time to sluice off and put on dry clothes. Dorcas rummaged up a late snack from Cheri's gourmet galley.

"So," said Annissina. "Our arrival changes the plan, of course."

"It does?" "How?" replied Günter and Yozak.

"Of course! The only point in risking a small-scale rescue mission was to get a sailor to sail that… _thing_… to Caloria for help." Annissina had a very low opinion of the pirates' boat design. "Instead, we have Banana-kun, and now two Mazoku of sufficient maryoku to power it." She grinned, a maniacal gleam in her eye. "We should re-power it at once. Dorcas and I will return directly to Shin Makoku for help! And they will arrive fully apprised of the situation here."

Günter protested at first. "But that will leave Giesela and myself completely incapacitated. We'll be out of action for the day!"

"Mm, it'll be day soon anyway," said Yozak. "I don't think we have time left to free a sailor before daybreak – it's a good three miles' rowing, plus picking up the three on the island. And in daylight… we've only got four real fighters." Even allowing for Yozak's and Günter's uncommon skill, there was an entire pirate village on Sweetwater – probably three hundred people. Not all were pirates, but none of them were friendly. "And even if it worked, that plan would only get us to Caloria – not as good a choice as Shin Makoku. Lady von Khrennikov's plan is most likely to yield help as soon as possible."

"That was our mission, after all, Günter," reminded Annissina, a steely glint in her eye.

Günter sighed and relented. Yozak updated his briefing notes on the binnacle, and made a second copy for Annissina to deliver to Gwendal. Dorcas packed plenty of food to replenish the energy of the two Mazoku they were about to drain, plus more for Annissina and himself, doomed to another stint on the banana boat. Yozak, the one who needed his scant remaining strength the least at this point, rowed them toward the sea-lane facing side of Deathwater Island, banana boat in tow.

No one thought to grab Giesela and Flurin a change of clothes this time, either.

-oOo-

"Giesela," said Murata softly, shaking her shoulder. Murata had set his wristwatch for 2:30 am, though it wasn't loud enough to wake the women. By his reckoning, 3:00 was the latest they dared set out on their mission to Sweetwater, to stay under cover of night. Yozak should have woken them by now. "Something's wrong – Yozak isn't back yet. I'm going to walk over to see what's happening out at the ships."

"I'll come with you. We'll leave a note for Flurin." Giesela looked sympathetically at the human woman, who wasn't used to such hard living. She was dead to the world. "Here, I can make a healer's hand-glow while you scratch a message in the dirt."

"Thanks, but no need." His keychain had a pencil flashlight, and he perennially kept a little notebook and pen in his back pocket. He scribbled a quick note, then stabbed it to the ground with a fair-sized stick to draw attention to it.

"Very impressive," said Giesela, smiling in the dark.

"Here, let me help you," said Murata, shamelessly putting his arm around her to lead her, as the tiny pencil flashlight beam showed the way.

Giesela chuckled quietly. "This actually makes it _harder_ to walk, you know."

"Ah, but it's so much more fun, don't you think? I'm… actually kind of glad to get a little time alone together…" Half-expecting to get slapped for that, Murata was very pleased indeed that Giesela snuggled closer and smiled in the dark.

Eventually, giggling and talking quietly, they came out of the trees on the inter-island side of the headland, just a few minutes after the dinghy and banana boat passed from their view on the other side. The yacht was clearly visible before them, still lit with '_requesting assistance'_ lanterns. Neither of them knew the signal.

"Do you think he's still out there?" asked Giesela.

_Not really._ "Let's sit here for 15 minutes or so and see," Murata suggested.

"You have such wonders in your world," Giesela sighed, resuming their conversation in his arms on the white sand, gazing into the beautiful moon on dark turquoise waters.

"I'll get Shibuya to bring you with us next time – we can go on a date," Murata suggested. "There's a restaurant I know, on a tower higher than Blood Pledge Castle _and_ its hill, that revolves so the view of the city lights beneath rolls past you as you eat an elegant dinner."

"I won't wear a dress," Giesela warned.

Murata laughed. "No, I don't think I'll ever ask you to wear a dress again."

"So what is _'go on a date'_, then?"

"Well, it's when two people, who think they might like each other, go and have fun alone together, get to know each other better, enjoy each other's company… And maybe, if they enjoy each's other's company…"

Giesela's big eyes looked up at him in the moonlight, her mouth in a crooked smile, getting slightly closer to his. Murata, though perhaps seventeen in _this_ lifetime, still remembered all the previous ones. And that sure looked to him like an invitation to be kissed. So he brushed her deep lustrous green locks out of her face with one hand, just to be sure, given that the lady was a wicked fighter. Sensing no objection, he kissed her. And she kissed him back.

It was, after all, too late to row to Sweetwater to rescue hostages. And they _had_ left a note saying where they'd be. Indeed, there was nothing better to do right now.

And it was an absolutely beautiful, romantic night in the balmy and scenic pirate isles of Death, Gag, Retch, and Sweetwater. Gradually pushed down lying in the sand, the two made the most of it, quite forgetful of that pirate, stranded thing. Giesela's dress was far better suited to sliding off her breasts than staying on them, anyway. And as his friend Yuuri had felt about Wolfram's versions of this dress, Murata had been dying to play with that lace-up back, that extended down to the first shadow of a crevice below, since the moment he laid eyes on it. Giesela had fun playing with his strangely stretchy paper-thin T-shirt as well, which was soon discarded and half-buried in sand.

"_Giesela!_" Günter squeaked. "What are you _doing?_"

"Looks to me like they're making out," Yozak drawled loudly, just because it was fun.

"_Chichiue!_" squeaked Giesela, ineffectually tugging the top of her by now tiny pink dress up. Murata hurriedly bent to redoing her back laces. "What are you doing here?"

Since Günter was struck speechless, Yozak answered. "They came on the banana boat, which we're sending back to Shin Makoku for help. We'll just… wait over there until you're dressed…" And he pushed Günter in front of him back into the trees.

Murata said, "Ah, here, Giesela, move this way," and positioned her facing the water, away from the other men. Before lacing the dress back up quite all the way, he snaked a hand around the front to cup a breast, thumbing the nipple. He kissed her opposite ear and licked the earlobe a little, before murmuring, "I'd like to finish this later sometime… And I'd still like to take you on a date to that revolving restaurant on my other world…"

Giesela, mortally embarassed but still enjoying the caress, said, "Yes, please… But I think you'd better lace up the dress before my father gets his sword out."

"Ah, yes, quite."

Eventually they all came out of the trees into the moonlight again, on the beach by the banana boat. Only then did Günter really get to see what his daughter was wearing – the dress having been hacked off at mid-thigh level by this point. "Giesela! You're walking around in … _underwear!_" And in truth, the bloodied, hacked, perilously low-cut dress was beginning to look much like a pink satin teddy. With a skirt. Kind of.

"Chichiue – it's the same dress as Flurin's wearing…" Though a little stained, Flurin's copy was still floor-length and elegant, and her bust fit _inside_ it, unlike Giesela's. "Well, anyway, Yozak brought us a change of clothes."

"Ah, I forgot…"

"You _WHAT?!_ You row back to that yacht this instant!"

"Not a chance, sargeant! Will you stop fussing about your wardrobe? Geez, put a dress on this girl and she turns into a _vain_ little vixen."

"Ah, Giesela," murmured Murata, holding her around the waist as she tried to take a swing at Yozak. "You need to save your strength to power the banana boat."

"_GAH!_" yelled Giesela. She shrugged Murata off and stalked to Annissina, who pursed her lips and held out a maryoku-recharging headset. Unhappily, Günter followed and took the other headset.

In the end, it was about half an hour past dawn when Annissina and Dorcas sped off back to Shin Makoku. Yozak, who'd been working hard without any sleep yet that night, and both Mazoku, were soon dead to the world. Flurin easily fell back to sleep as well. But Murata, alone with his thoughts, stared into the gorgeous pale green breakers from the turquoise sea on the white sand beach, and took a long time getting back to sleep.

"I want to marry this girl," he murmured to the sea.

-oOo-

Their second day by the pirate cook-fire, Cheri meditated for what seemed the hundredth time on just how… _unnatural_ it was to have the parents of the wedding couple forced into such close proximity. It was nearly impossible to keep the parents from… _clashing_ at times. And this wedding was even more… _stressful_ than most. Her ability to continue… _mentally restating_ things to keep her temper even was becoming a bit… _frayed_.

She sadly recalled bitter exchanges between her own family and Gwendal's grandmother von Walde, leading up to her first wedding. All the parents were gone by the time of her quiet wedding with Dan Hiri Weller. But Manfred's bedamned mother and uncle had more than made up for it, squaring off against her brother Stoeffel, killing _that_ marriage altogether, and spawning a feud still smoldering to the present day. Cheri'd been quite eager to bring along Giesela and her lapdog wannabe Murata on this trip, to act as a buffer between herself and Yuuri's family.

She missed them _badly._

"There she is!" said Miko, spotting Ethel across the central dust plaza from the cookfire they tended. "I want to go give that trashy hussy a piece of my mind!"

"Mm, that wouldn't be entirely wise…" Cheri murmured, hoping she'd be able to muzzle Miko without getting off her comfy log. It was awful to be this hungry and this weak and this nauseous from the houseki crystals, all at the same time, and still have to _babysit Miko's mouth_… er, be mindful of the young woman's less-developed acting skills. The way Miko occasionally – like now – reminded Cheri of Manfred's mother, wasn't helping matters. "My, it's hot out. Miko-chan, do you think you could bring me a glass of water, please? The baby's finally sleeping…"

Miko gritted her teeth and reminded herself for the hundredth time that not only was the _blonde bimbo_ feeling ill, and naturally accustomed to being _waited on hand and foot_ like a princess, but that Miko herself was supposed to be acting just as ill, and acting as Cheri's servant as well, as though their lives depended on it. Granted, she had a little difficulty keeping the _'our lives depend on it'_ part fixed in her naturally buoyant and optimistic mind. She placed her fists furiously on her hips and wheeled on Cheri for only a moment, before remembering to _act._ "_Yes_, Cheri, of _course_."

Bringing her 'mistress' water, Miko shuffled her feet through the dust and hunched her shoulders, as her son Shouri had drummed into her head the night before, as an easy way to _act sick_. This lesson came naturally to Shouri, Miko having continually berated him and Yuuri as children to _mind a cheerful posture_ and _pick their feet up off the ground!_ She still balled her fists up in reflex every time she saw Shouri across the pirate compound, _slouching_ and _shuffling_ like that.

"You need rest, too, Miko-chan. Please have a seat?" encouraged Cheri. _Steam is coming out of your ears. That's not quite the demeanor of an ailing servant… _Worse, Cheri saw Shouri's hands slip on a heavy beam he was carrying, causing it to fall on a pirate's toe. "Here, take the baby for a moment, dear."

"I thought you just said the baby was sleeping!" hissed Miko.

Cheri smiled and placed the baby in Miko's arms, to interfere with her movement. She patted the younger woman on the side of the head. "Remember, all we need to do is _act the part_ until my darling Gwendal can rescue us." She popped Miko's translator out of her ear before she could respond, and stomped pointedly on Miko's foot, before going to give Miko's curry another stir. A torrent of Japanese gibberish erupted from Miko in response. As Cheri expected, Shouri got a couple lashes, but managed to remain non-Maou and servile throughout. _I'm not surprised her menfolk can act cowed… er, it's a blessing they're good actors. Ugh, the smell of this stew is making me nauseous._

Miko noted in fury that the blonde had barely dabbed the spoon at the top couple inches of stew – she couldn't even stir a pot! Then she put the spoon down on the dirty log instead of in the bowl Miko kept there for the purpose. Her fury roused the baby, who woke and started to fuss.

Cheri sighed in relief – her ploys had worked, Miko hadn't noticed Shouri's whipping. Now for the ever-tricky bit – giving Miko her translator back. She bent down in front of the younger woman making cooing sounds to the baby, and caressed Miko's cheek. Beautiful black almond-shaped eyes met hers, absolutely livid. Cheri pursed her lips, put a finger over Miko's lips, and pushed the translator back into her ear, hoping for the best.

"What is that?" said Ethel, coming up behind her. "That _thing_ in your maid's ear."

"It's a special majutsu-powered device," Cheri extemporized. "It helps to control her fits." _First law of lying – keep it simple, stupid._ Cheri added yet another mental plank of lies to the alarmingly tottering pile of lies about her human companions. _Her_ lie was simple – she was Gwendal's mistress. Theirs, on the other hand….

Ethel's narrowed, intelligent amber eyes locked onto Cheri's green ones. "She has a lot of fits," Ethel commented, watching for Cheri's reaction. "What's your name, maid?" Ethel's eyes stayed locked on Cheri's.

"Vanessa," blurted Miko.

"But we mostly call her Miko," said Cheri, without a flinch.

Ethel nodded slowly, lips pursed, and turned to look at Miko. "Are there many like you where you come from?"

"Yes, I mean, no," said Miko. "I mean there are a lot of maids in my family, yes. Ah, but not many have dark hair, ha ha!"

Ethel leaned down and took the translator device from her ear. She tossed it in her hand, a couple inches into the air, about three inches from Miko's nose. "You should really mind your mistress, _Vanessa_." She handed the translator device to Cheri. "Watch her." And Ethel started to walk away.

_What?_ thought Cheri._ Could she be on our side? Careful, here, Cheri, very careful… _ "Excuse me, Ethel Ma'am," said Cheri humbly, bowing. "We were wondering – how should we call the child?"

Ethel didn't turn back, but stopped and looked over her shoulder, with a disdainful glance at the baby. "Frieda. Her father said he'd name a child after his best friend – Manfried." And she walked away.

It was all Cheri could do not to laugh. _I can't wait to tell Manfred! He'll _hate_ it! _Though she didn't doubt Adelbert would honor Manfred, he'd never have named a child after _Friedrich_."Here, Frieda, that's a good girl!" she cooed, taking the baby back. "What a pretty name!"

Miko tried to snatch the translator back. Cheri stuck it down her cleavage and hissed at her, "_Vanessa_." Miko might not understand anything else she said, but she could understand _that_.

-oOo-

Yuuri's father Shouma drew the best lot of all the captives. More physical than the studious Shouri, he was thrown in with the sailors for hard labor. But nobody could work very hard. Although the Mazoku were quite ill from the houseki bindings, Shouma's Earth-thinned Mazoku blood only made his stomach a little queasy. The sailors suffered from the summer sun, but Shouma gloried in playing golf in the sweltering summer humidity of Tokyo. And as for acting – a lifetime as a Mazoku tribesman in a human world, an upper-level executive in the Earth Maou's international investment banks, having lived and worked in several countries – Shouma was a consummate actor.

The labor gang was clearing a field for the pirates. Yesterday's task was felling and cutting up a few of the aptly-named iron trees. Today his group used straight lengths of ironwood as levers to pry rocks out of the ground. Shouma picked out a specially shaped one for himself, with a bent club on the end. He tried it out on some of the smaller rocks for fun while the pirates weren't watching. As a golf club, it wasn't half bad.

-oOo-

Annissina and Dorcas would have been better off leaving Giesela and Murata to make out a while longer in the romantic pirate island night. As it was, they ran into Gwendal's high black hydrofoil only about an hour out of port, thus making nearly an entire round trip to Deathwater and back, overnight with no sleep, in something under 18 hours. Dorcas simply passed out on the deck where he was dragged aboard. Annissina fell asleep on her arms on the table while Gwendal read Yozak's situation report. He left the note for the rest of the planning team to read, and half-carried her down to his cabin to put her to bed.

She roused as he was about to leave. "Gwendal? Did the note tell you everything you need to know? I should go back to answer questions…" But her eyelids kept falling closed even as she said it.

Gwendal smoothed her hair off her face to soothe her. "Sleep first, we have twelve hours yet. …Annissina?"

"Mmm?"

"Were you… planning to… marry Manfred?"

"Mm, Manfred would be nice… If Gwendal won't marry me…" She wasn't really awake when she said it.

Gwendal plucked his hand off her sleeping face as though scalded. He balled up his fists and glared at the porthole for several minutes. _I don't have time to think about this – if I wait until we get back to Blood Pledge Castle, her brother may have already betrothed her to Manfred. But… _

He stole a glance at her. Annissina looked incredibly sweet and innocent asleep, her long red locks loosed from their ponytail and strewn about the pillow. Her voluptuous bust and narrow waist were more noticeable when she didn't have her fists on her hips and her shoulders forward to bully him into something. He fingered a red lock of hair guiltily, then snatched his hand back. _She only looks innocent sleeping. When she's awake, that gleam in her eye is a perfect match for Manfred's evil smile. _

_No! I don't want her looking at Manfred that way!_

_Although… if Manfred married Annissina, then there would be no further danger of him marrying Hahaue. As it is, someday old Friedrich will kick the bucket, and then, they might… _

_No! That's over and done with, long since. They just… both believe in… free love. _As any man's would, his mind snatched itself away immediately from the thought of his mother having sex with Manfred. Obviously, mothers did have sex or they wouldn't have sons. It just didn't bear _thinking_ about.

He didn't feel any more comfortable thinking about Manfred having sex with Annissina. _I just don't like Manfred. No, that's not true, I do like Manfred. I just don't like Manfred with my women. My women? Arghh!_

_No, I don't have time to think about this. We'll reach the pirate islands a little after midnight. First we rescue Hahaue, then I can think about this. But… before we head back. Or I might lose her forever… But…_

He stood resolutely and headed back to the meeting cabin. Planning an island assault was ever so much easier to think about.

-oOo-

Yuuri knew better than to sit in on his military men planning an operation. It wasn't irresponsible – he stayed long enough to understand the problems they were grappling with, and he'd be fully briefed on the plan later. For the part in the middle, he was simply in the way. Better to come to the final plan with a fresh mind later. He left the meeting cabin and leaned on the railing, taking a deep relieved breath of sea air and looking at the wake kicked up by the pontoons below. Wolfram joined him in a few minutes.

"They're alive, and we'll have them back soon," Wolfram murmured.

Yuuri grinned. "Yeah. Yeah… I know it's going to be tough, but… I'm sure they'll come up with something." He nodded his head back toward the meeting, to indicated Gwendal, Conrad, Adelbert, and Brendan, deep in their planning. "How's the sea-sickness?"

"I feel fine, thanks. Those pills from your world work wonders."

"Wolfram… I was thinking… we'll reach the pirate islands after midnight… Maybe we could take a nice long siesta before dinner?"

"Mm, I dunno, wimp." Wolfram grinned crookedly, green eyes glinting at Yuuri sideways. "My mind is all keyed up, and I'm not really tired." _Talk me into it._

"Ah, well, maybe a little exercise would be just the thing then. Work up a sweat, get rid of some of that tension." Yuuri grinned at him outright.

"Could do that," responded Wolfram with a grin. And they headed for their cabin.

As soon as they closed the door behind them, Wolfram arms were around Yuuri's head and shoulders, drawing him into a deep kiss. Yuuri pulled him tighter, hands on Wolfram's hips.

"_Wol_ –" came a gagging sound from their bunk. They turned to see Efram vomit in a bucket by the side of the bed. All color drained from Wolfram's face, and not just from seeing his younger brother here. One of the worst things for seasickness is to see someone else vomiting. His stomach lurched in sympathetic reaction, and he too used the bucket as soon as Efram was done.

Yuuri hurriedly fetched a fresh bucket, and a glass of water for Efram to wash down some of Wolfram's motion sickness pills. He came back to find the brothers already deep into a heart-to-heart on the bunk.

"– My stepfather doesn't want me around any more," Efram said. "Hahaue said I'd be just as happy staying at Chichiue's, and it's only a short walk away, so she let him kick me out."

"But I'm sure Chichiue wants you," murmured Wolfram. "Chichiue adores you, Efram. You two get along so well."

"I know. I'd like living with Chichiue. It's just… that's my _home!_ And they just kicked me out because it was easier than settling their argument. I know Chichiue loves me. I just thought Hahaue and my stepfather loved me, too, you know?"

"I'm sorry," Wolfram said, stroking his brother's hair. "What is all this fighting about, anyway? Think it's fixable?"

"My stepfather's trying to make me some kind of super-defense-majustsu user. _He's_ a professor of counter-houjutsu. _Hahaue's_ a professor of majutsu defenses. _Chichiue's_ a fire healer like us. I study twelve hours a day, Wolfram! But I'm only forty-five. I can't master all three _this_ decade. If I keep splitting myself three ways, I can't master _any_ of them. So my stepfather wants me to give up fire healing. He says Chichiue says most people don't go fully into fire healing until they're much older anyway. But I don't _want_ to give up fire healing – it's who we _are!_"

"You're not quite old enough to need to take a break from fire healing, if you don't want to, Efram. Chichiue would have explained that to you – you've got a few years yet before it's a problem." Wolfram leaned over and explained into his ear.

"Oh. So I can learn as much as I want until I feel… too horny to do it for a while? It's not that I'm too young to learn?"

Wolfram nodded, then shrugged. "And you can still do it even when the… passion's… a bit too much. You just… won't want to for a while unless you need to." He smiled wryly. "Or unless you… want to. And sometimes… you do."

"Wolfram's healed me a few times," added Yuuri, smiling shyly. "He healed you too, the other day."

Wolfram smiled back at him, then turned back to Efram. "You haven't told Chichiue all this, have you, pixie?"

"Yeah… Well, no… I'm afraid they'll fight. When my stepfather gets mad at Chichiue, he says how much he hates Bielenfeld, and threatens to take the family back to Krist. I guess now if he did it, they'd just dump me behind, and not even give me a chance to choose. I'm sorry, Wolfram. I guess you had to choose all the time, huh?"

"No. Not really." Wolfram sighed. "Chichiue refused to put me in that position. Sometimes I wished he'd fight for me… But mostly, I was glad he didn't. He was always there for me when I wanted him or needed him, but never, ever tried to pull me away from Hahaue. But… I never had _both_ like you do. I'm sorry, Efram. I know that Chichiue would let you go if you wanted to go to Krist. It would break his heart, but he'd let you go."

Efram picked at the bedding. "I'm too old to be torn up like this. When Chichiue and Adelbert were my age, they were already in the army."

"Who told you that?" asked Wolfram, astonished.

"Adelbert. He laughed when he realized I didn't know. Said Chichiue's usually so honest, he was amazed he didn't tell us _that_. But then he said, really, there were probably a _lot _of things he didn't tell us, and laughed some more. Did he tell _you?_"

Wolfram thought back. "Well… no. But… come to think of it, if I piece together what I do know… that adds up. But he never told me directly, no. It's just… he was an officer for almost fifty years before his leg forced him to retire. And… he was my age when I was born, so… that adds up. But you know, Efram, he didn't have three parents fighting over him. He had only one, and he was running away from her."

"I don't blame him. Grandma's a _hag._"

"How's the seasickness?" Yuuri inquired gently, after a lull. "You might want to sip a little more water."

Efram dutifully sipped. "It's much better, thanks."

"Efram… is counter-houjutsu… dangerous?" asked Yuuri.

Efram shrugged. "Mostly you just use majutsu to crack the houseki crystals. Getting close enough can be dangerous, I guess."

"You can do that?" asked Wolfram quietly, a bit in awe. "Crack houseki crystals from a distance? Even outside of Shin Makoku?"

Efram nodded. "Sure. None of my techniques depend on elementals, just innate maryoku. Why?"

-oOo-

_Please review. It will inspire me to write more… On this story, or another if this one is already done… I get really disappointed when I get few reviews. :sniff, sniff:_


	7. The Calorian Navy

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 7 : The Calorian Navy

"_Flu…?_" Ethel had come out on a little sailboat with a couple of other pirates, to check on the yacht. She read Yozak's note from the binnacle with great interest, though she kept it carefully hidden from her companions. The last line said:

_**Plan – me, G&G, M, & Flu power B-kun, rest seaside Death to dark.**_

Yozak, writing that, had paused a moment, then decided on a calculated risk. There had always been a chance that a ship from Caloria would reach the pirate isles before one from Shin Makoku. Caloria was much closer, and the diplomatic fowl network could have already notified Caloria that their leader was missing by the time Yozak was writing. He wanted to make sure such a rescue party knew where Flurin was. He wasn't sure 'F' was enough, but knew 'Flurin' was too much, if the pirates intercepted the note.

If Murata had been on the yacht at the time, he would have strongly suggested 'F' with a wiggly line underneath. But on the run after Jemmy on Deathwater, they'd never happened to mention any clever pirates to Yozak, who naturally assumed the pirates were the normal run of the mill criminals, too stupid to make an honest living. If Yozak had known an ex-girlfriend of _Adelbert's_ was involved, he might have burned the note altogether, and fallen back to personally identifiable jewelry and a couple arrows scuffed on the deck. He'd served under General von Gratz for years. Adelbert wouldn't have any use for a stupid woman.

Ethel carefully hid the note in a pocket, and considered. Clearly, she hadn't met 'me' – the writer had never been captured. One of the 'G's was the healer Griesela, most likely. 'M'… Murray was that ugly black-haired chick with glasses and white face paint and the garish dress. Clearly the pirates had interrupted one _kinky_ dress-up party on the yacht. Not that Ethel cared – the high-maintenance blonde had to have some angle to earn her keep from the Chancellor of Shin Makoku. Kinky cosplay made sense. So far, Ethel had a lot of respect for her fellow savvy businesswoman – might even try to recruit her when Chancellor Grendel tired of her.

But what was that third woman's name? The '_healer's assistant_' who'd obviously never made it to the slave market? The elegant lavender-haired lady who looked naggingly familiar… No, they'd never said her name. Flu…?

_Oh, shit! __**Flurin**__ of Caloria!_

Ethel instantly abandoned her ploy to get her baby evacuated to Shin Makoku out from under her father's nose. Screw the half-breed brat – this was _way_ out of hand! If they'd gotten word to Caloria – and that seemed to be the plan – there wasn't even time to evacuate before the whole freaking Calorian navy was on their asses. And… that black-haired mouthy woman… no, _all_ the uppity black-haired '_servants'_… they weren't Mazoku at all! And they were wandering around with nothing but houseki crystals to bind them!

"Change of plans, boys!" she yelled at her companions. She grabbed a grappling gun and jumped into the little sailboat again at a run. She quickly fired the gun directly into the sand mound that was anchoring the yacht, murmuring, "Sorry, Petunia…." And they made best speed back to Sweetwater.

Of course, so did the rather irate Petunia. A good desert bear _hates_ getting wet.

-oOo-

When the motion sickness meds kicked in, Wolfram and Yuuri took Efram to Gwendal's planning team. Brendan, whom the boy knew and trusted, extracted exact information from him regarding his counter-houjutsu and majutsu defense. Though the latter probably wasn't as important, their best majutsu defense artist, Günter, might be in pirate hands by the time they returned. Duly warned that lives were in the balance, Efram neither exaggerated nor shrunk from fear, and gave them as accurate an idea of his abilities and limits as he could. Brendan thanked him for the information, and assured Efram – and Wolfram – that in any case, he would be called upon only as a last resort.

Wolfram then took Efram and introduced him to the cabin boy, a close age-mate. The two of them hit it off instantly, and before long, they were playing tag in the ratlines.

It was Yuuri's turn to look green. "Ah… Wolfram… that doesn't look safe…"

Wolfram grinned. "He's_ fine_, Yuuri. The kid's an absolute monkey, and the cabin boy knows what he's doing." He looked wistful for a moment. "Yuuri… I so want a son like him. He is _such_ a good kid!"

Yuuri, still staring apprehensively at the boys playing on the mainsail, meditated yet again on Wolfram and Manfred's odd usage of the word '_fine_'. He murmured, "This… parenting thing… it's kind of scary. What if he _falls?_"

"I heal him and he gets back up again," Wolfram said reasonably, "if he doesn't heal it himself first." Wolfram gave him a sidelong green appraising look, and decided, _Goading would be good_. "Unless you're too big a _wimp_ to raise a son, only sweet little daughters?" _My love, 'sweet little daughters' can get just as hair-raising…_

Yuuri smiled at Wolfram crookedly. "Ah, I'm _not_ a wimp. And speaking of the parenting thing… weren't we going to reprise a little… private magic ritual? Before we found Efram upchucking in our bed?"

"Think you're brave enough for that, eh?" Wolfram goaded some more. "_Wimp._"

"_Try_ me. The cabin's this way, love…"

And in that cabin, they did reprise their magic lovemaking, wishing with all their hearts and souls that their coming together, though man to man, would yet draw the soul of their child to choose _them_. And as they climaxed, suddenly, Yuuri blazed blue, in full Maou mode, for just a moment.

"_What?_" cried Wolfram, breathless. Yuuri's eyes were closed, ecstatic, but looking very much like he'd passed out. In a panic, Wolfram straddled and slapped him. "Yuuri? _Yuuri! YUURI!?!_"

And Yuuri, face quite red from sexual exertion and multiple slappings on sweat-wet skin, groggily came to. He grabbed Wolfram's hand before he could get slapped again. "_Stop_ that, you vixen!"

Wolfram fell back to his heels – well, still straddling Yuuri's waist, both quite naked – panting. "Yuu… you… Yuuri, you _scared_ me!" And slapped him again anyway.

"_Ow!_" but Yuuri laughed. "Ah… what happened?" he asked, still groggy and rubbing his face and hair.

"You turned Maou just as we… _That_ never happened before," said Wolfram, still panting and worried. "What… do you remember anything?"

Yuuri thought about it. He did feel like something… was missing? That wasn't quite right, but it wasn't exactly _wrong_, either. "I'm… not sure," he said to Wolfram. "But I think I'm OK."

Wolfram whispered, "Please, love… please be OK…" Yuuri put out a hand to ward off yet another slap, but Wolfram instead fell down onto Yuuri's chest, clutching him tight, burrowing his head between Yuuri's chin and collarbone. "Please be OK…"

Yuuri petted him and soothed him, until they both fell asleep for their afternoon nap.

-oOo-

Planning done as best they could in advance of seeing the latest developments, Gwendal took a power nap on a chair in his cabin by the still-sleeping Annissina. It was hell getting to sleep – images of Manfred making love to Annissina alternated with images of Manfred making love to his mother in his mind, mixing in with the obvious but sickening swap-outs of Wolfram for Manfred as he drifted off – Wolfram looked the spitting image of the young Manfred before Wolfram was born, as he'd been reminded that morning.

But as so often happens, he woke up with clear insight into something that had been bugging him – those tattoos that looked just like the eloper-wanted posters in Suberia. And a sand bear, who _really_ didn't belong in the middle of the ocean.

He bolted out of the room to send a bird to his cousin Gegen Huber, acting as Conrad's proxy while they were gone. Those tattoos – he'd bet anything they weren't dealing with an isolated group of stupid pirates. This was part of the Suberian Syndicate – the nastiest, most powerful organized crime syndicate in the world. In fact… selling Mazoku healers? He'd bet _Annette_ was the work of the Suberian Syndicate as well.

_Aldrich, your plan better work. Because I'll bet anything the Suberian Syndicate framed poor, weakly-governed Mizrat in order to distract Shin Makoku, with a _war.

-oOo-

General Ted von Trondheim had no compunctions about intercepting the Kohi and reading the letter it bore, though it was addressed to Lord Friedrich von Bielenfeld. Though saddened, he wasn't surprised by the contents. He notified his first cousin Aldrich von Bielenfeld immediately.

-oOo-

"Cousin Manfred, cousin Aldrich needs you in the ballroom, like yesterday," a blond boy reported out of breath. He'd found Manfred in the stables, irritably covering one of the missing Giesela's duties.

Manfred sighed and told the groom, "Colic," hoping it was true – he didn't normally treat horses. He hastily turned his carriage to climb the hill back to the castle. He didn't bother asking the boy – or the other half dozen who came running behind at a whistle to come collect their reward on delivery – what Aldrich wanted. He was confident they knew, and just as confident they'd never tell him. That's why Bielenfeld and Gratz aristocrats always sent brats on their errands, rather than guards. If asked by anyone but the principals, "Who sent you?" the invariable answer would be, "Efram," he being current leader of the horde. The code of ethics for the Bielenfeld and Gratz midget menaces, absolutely forbade the leaking of information. This code was strictly enforced by the adults as well as the children. The adults had all been trained in the horde themselves. They knew full well that wars had been fought between Gratz and Bielenfeld for less than those dratted kids could divulge. And if outsiders knew… well, at least the ruling family of Gratz and Bielenfeld had a vested interest in making sure their next generation survived. Outsiders weren't so constrained.

Ted von Trondheim was hiding outside the door of the ballroom to delay the proceedings. He tossed a handful of coins for the kids to divvy up, and quickly filled Manfred in. "The Bielenfeld Regiment is marching on Mizrat under von Dienst. Krist and Khrennikov forces as well, under Bielenfeld leadership." Sitting amidst the Eleven Aristocrats there assembled, Aldrich noticed their arrival and nodded, motioning them to come quick and take their places. Ted took a seat as Gwendal's proxy in the Lords while Manfred, still clueless as to what Aldrich wanted of him, simply took a seat nearby.

"_Good _of you to finally join us, von Trondheim," Friedrich said nastily. "_Now_ I demand a vote – for full-scale invasion of Mizrat."

"Point of order," interrupted Aldrich, standing. "Lord Wincott, as heir of Bielenfeld, I declare my father no longer mentally fit to rule."

"You _dare!_" screeched Friedrich. "Wincott, he has no right to be here. Aldrich, get out! And take your screw-up sidekick with you!" He jerked his head toward Manfred.

"Lord Wincott, I bear Lord Gratz' proxy," Aldrich said coolly. "And as I stated – I challenge Lord Bielenfeld as no longer fit to rule."

Lord Wincott, second eldest of the Aristocrats, wasn't the slightest bit surprised, having been in on it all along. "Lord Aldrich, you realize by so doing, that you disqualify yourself and your heirs from inheriting. These are serious charges."

_Well, disqualify for a year, then it's reversible…_ Manfred quibbled mentally. He could see all too well now where this was headed.

"I understand, and lay the charges anyway," said Aldrich. "And, for what it's worth, my proxy from Lord Gratz _stands_ whether I'm heir to Bielenfeld or not." He showed Wincott Brendan's proxy, which did state this explicitly, since Brendan knew full well what Aldrich was going to do with it.

"You are not permitted to disqualify yourself as heir unless you provide a viable alternative," prompted Lord Wincott. "Whom do you claim is qualified?"

"My first cousin, and great- nephew, Lord Manfred von Bielenfeld, eldest son of Wolfred, my immediate predecessor as heir to Bielenfeld, in turn eldest son of Wolfgang, eldest son of my father, Lord Friedrich. The succession passed over Manfred in my favor due to age – I was a young adult and Manfred still a child when his father Wolfred was killed."

"Lord Manfred, is this correct?" inquired Lord Wincott. "Are you who Lord Aldrich claims? And do you know of any superior claimant?"

Manfred stood unhappily, and nodded. "I am as Lord Aldrich said. There are… other claimants. Probably the highest ranking would be my son and heir Wolfram."

Aldrich cut in, "Wolfram does not himself have an heir, and is not present to assign one."

Lord Wincott nodded. "Very well, and the basis of your claim, Lord Aldrich? What evidence is there that your father is mentally unfit?"

Aldrich quirked his lip. "He takes sugar in his tea. Lord Manfred, as a leading authority among healers, do you concur that it is unwise for Lord Friedrich to take sugar in his tea?"

Lord Wincott pinched the bridge of his nose to keep from laughing. He waved a hand at Manfred to prompt him to '_concur_' quickly and get it over with.

"Ah, well he _is_ diabetic, so, sugar in his tea isn't really good for him…" murmured Manfred faintly, staring bemused at Aldrich.

"Very well," adjudged the presiding Aristocrat Lord Wincott. "Any objections? No?" Though Aldrich had a contingency plan for this, too, none were needed. Friedrich was over 750 years old, and had _owned_ the Ten for nearly three centuries. The Lords were more than happy to retire him even on this flimsy excuse. No one chose to verbalize this.

"Then, Friedrich von Bielenfeld, you are excused as ruling Lord Bielenfeld. Guards, please escort him – _kindly_ – to his quarters." The _kindly_ part was a challenge, since the old man was practically spitting and kicking, but the guards managed somehow. "Manfred, please assume your place amongst us as Lord Bielenfeld."

Manfred, with vast reluctance, limped slowly to Friedrich's vacated seat. Born Aristocrat, a gifted military aide, talented healer, passionate lover, respected professor – one thing no one had ever called Manfred von Bielenfeld, was _political._ About as close as he came to '_political_' was unshakeable loyalty to his children, Shinou, Maou, Shin Makoku, and Bielenfeld – in that order – and every one of those loyalties had cost him dearly.

And as soon as he sat down, Lord Wincott forced him to stand again. "Lord Bielenfeld, a vote is being taken for full-scale invasion of Mizrat. Please resume where Lord Friedrich left off."

"Um, can I retract the motion?" asked Manfred. Aldrich passed him a note, listing Bielenfeld's voting treaties, then snatched it back. Manfred glared at him.

"No, you cannot," explained Lord Wincott. "Troops are amassed at the border. We need a firm decision as to their deployment."

"Then, if I might consult with my esteemed great-uncle briefly?" asked Manfred. He peevishly snatched the note back from Aldrich, who grinned. "Very well. Bielenfeld votes _against _the motion made by, um, Bielenfeld, and stands by the Maou's orders – that we will proceed with an exchange of police observers with Mizrat and Cavalcade. All our forces currently advancing on Mizrat should be withdrawn with all haste.

"I furthermore remind the following Lords of their voting treaty obligations with Bielenfeld. Lord Gratz."

Aldrich stood, and murmured in Manfred's ear. "You just list the Lords who have to vote as you do. Don't call them to their feet, it invites them to argue." And he sat again.

"Ah, excuse me, Lord Wincott," said Manfred. "What I meant to say, is that the following Lords are required by treaty to cast any war votes with Bielenfeld. Gratz, Trondheim, and – Khrennikov?" He cocked an eyebrow at Aldrich at that – if Khrennikov had any voting treaties at all with Bielenfeld, let alone a _war_ voting treaty, it was news to him. Aldrich simply nodded.

Lord Khrennikov considered disagreeing – because he sincerely believed they should attack Mizrat – using the grounds that the proposed marriage between Manfred and his sister, which formed the basis of that voting treaty, was not yet confirmed. On the other hand, it was more valuable than ever. Eh, screw Mizrat, no doubt there would be future opportunities to clobber them again – they had that knack. He chose to sit mum.

Lord Trondheim, however, chose to stand and quibble. "Lord Bielenfeld, with respect, I believe that in case of _war_, our voting treaty requires Lord _Aldrich_ as either heir or ruling Lord Bielenfeld, not yourself. Trondheim casts its vote in support of my brother _Teodor's_ decision." He sat.

Ted stood. "Walde – and Trondheim – choose to support the Maou's clear wishes."

Gegen Huber stood. "Weller stands by the Maou. _Always_."

"Wincott also votes to follow the Maou – and we have a clear majority," concluded Lord Wincott. "Lord Bielenfeld, please recall the troops _immediately_. We are adjourned."

Manfred noted wryly that the majority was sufficient even without 'betrothing' Manfred to Annissina – Aldrich had allowed a margin for error, as usual.

Aldrich clapped Manfred on the back. He smiled and said, "Let me handle this for you, my liege." Manfred signed the recall order Aldrich handed him, then Aldrich headed out of the ballroom at a trot to recall the troops. _Probably just acting, _thought Manfred. _I bet he recalled the troops even before this little charade. Though Commander von Dienst will likely appreciate the signed version for confirmation._

Manfred was left dryly accepting the congratulations of the peerage. _You owe me bigtime for this, Aldrich – one year's vacation, and this is _your _problem again… _That mantra served to keep him calm, mostly.

As the hubbub died back a bit, he sidled up to his old friend Ted, and complained, "_Sugar? _In his_ tea?_"

Ted shrugged and grinned. "I guess he didn't want to embarrass his father any more than necessary – he knew he had the votes locked up, regardless. Our cousin Aldrich is one shrewd customer – he must have had this contingency plan in place for _years_."

"Very likely," agreed Manfred. It didn't matter whether Aldrich or Manfred ruled Bielenfeld, in name. Manfred was quite voluntarily his elder Aldrich's puppet either way, at least when it came to politics. First cousin or great- uncle, in practice Aldrich had been elder brother and protector to fatherless Manfred, only child and whipping boy to his bitter widowed mother Phoebe. Manfred followed Aldrich's lead willingly enough. In political cunning, for one thing, Aldrich was quite possibly the superior of every man in the room. Manfred had no doubt who the most inferior was – himself. _Politics…_

-oOo-

The yacht and pirate ship were right where Annissina had left them, but… not quite the same. She couldn't quite put her finger on it at first, so insisted Gwendal take her with him to the yacht, and bring a launch full of marines. Gwendal's black hydrofoil was massive compared to Cheri's play yacht. But as a hydrofoil, it depended on outrunner pontoons more than a keel for its stability under full sail. It could come fairly close in to the yacht, indeed could even find narrow passage between the islands, nearly to Sweetwater.

The '_requesting assistance_' lanterns were out, but there could be many reasons for that – including simple lack of fuel. It was nearly one a.m. by the time they arrived. She would have expected Günter's team to be on the yacht, but they might have gone to reconnoiter on Sweetwater under cover of darkness. As they came on board, she noticed the first thing – the yacht swayed every so slightly under the weight of the marines. "We're on anchors, not a sandbar…" she murmured to Gwendal, then made a beeline to the binnacle. "Yozak's briefing notes are missing."

"Search below, carefully!" Gwendal barked to the marines. "There may be a welcoming committee! Then check out the pirate ship." But he turned to Annissina and suggested, "Maybe Yozak decided it just wasn't safe to leave a note here anymore, and we'd know it all anyway."

Annissina shook her head slightly. "There was always a chance we wouldn't reach you. And Yozak thought someone might come from Caloria to rescue Flurin. The notes were for them… And even if he destroyed the old note, he would have left another before they left Deathwater. Gwendal… give me a team, I'll take them to where we launched Banana-kun and left them resting."

Gwendal frowned. "I'll come with you." First he let the marines verify both anchored ships were pirate-free. Then he sent one dinghy back to the hydrofoil, while he took Annissina and the marines to Deathwater, in his far faster and more maneuverable military launch, with ten one-man oars to keep those marines earning their feed.

Training a floodlamp on the beach before they deigned to cross the breakers, Annissina gasped. There had obviously been a struggle, and trademark skull and cross-bones stood on a stake.

"They're old and bleached, Annissina," murmured Gwendal to calm her. "Those bones didn't come from any of ours."

But to be on the safe side, he sent one volunteer marine swimming to shore to look around, with a floating lantern that wouldn't be put out by the breakers. Annissina also kept her floodlamp trained for him. It didn't take him long to look around, pick up a couple things, and swim back.

"There's this thing," he said, handing Murata's Tokyo housekey and penlight on a chain to Annissina, who recognized it, and flashed it on and off. "And this." A few pretty stones left on a strand – Flurin's necklace broke in the scuffle. "And a note addressed to the Calorian Navy."

Gwendal read it aloud.

_**I know you've come to rescue Flurin. Please note that we did NOT intend to capture Flurin – only some Mazoku healer. **_

_**Now we're going to take nice, careful steps, and everyone gets to live.**_

_**You send another hostage, acknowledging this note and agreeing to its terms.**_

_**We evacuate the pirates from these islands with all the hostages.**_

_**You wait five hours, or the hostages die.**_

_**We deposit the hostages, alive, on Eldara Island.**_

_**The islanders we leave behind, aren't pirates and don't know where we're going. So leave them be.**_

_**You know, and we know, that if we harm a head of state there's no place to run. Flurin will be alive – IF you wait five hours. If you don't, she'll die before we do.**_

_**Ethel.**_

Gwendal bade the marines make best speed back to the hydrofoil, so he could consult with his co-planners. Yuuri, whom Gwendal had informed about his Suberian Syndicate suspicions, surprised them by first focusing on the '_Mazoku healer_' part.

"_Why?_ Why Mazoku healers?"

Since the others looked like they didn't quite know how to answer, Wolfram did. "That's kind of obvious, Yuuri. It lies at the base of all human hatred of Mazoku, doesn't it? We live centuries, they die in only one. And when our span of centuries is over, we know beyond doubt we'll be reborn as Mazoku, or half-Mazoku – that our souls continue forever. Whereas they _don't _know, do they? Their souls might very well be _extinguished_ forever when they die. And then there's the Mazoku healer, who can magically heal things _no_ human doctor can. Majutsu fighting, they can counter with houjutsu. But they have no equal to majutsu healing. And even without maryoku, with just herbs and breadth of knowledge – their best healers have one year of study to every ten or a hundred of ours. We Mazoku don't _want_ to die. But humans truly _fear _to die, Yuuri. What price life, to _them_?"

Yuuri nodded throughout this, thoughtfully, and continued nodding and tapping a finger afterwards, still thinking. He decided. "Then we need to make the _cost_ of a Mazoku healer higher than _any_ price. Gwendal! I want every Mazoku healer accounted for. Any outside Shin Makoku, I want escorted home under heavy guard, _immediately_. None leave the country again without heavy guard and my permission. How long would it take to identify every missing healer?"

Gwendal nodded, surprised but pleased. "I don't know – but Manfred might. I'm sure Gegen Huber would ask him. If the Institute keeps records… maybe only days."

Yuuri nodded emphatically. "I don't care if we have to go village to village knocking on doors – I want _every one_ of them accounted for, or being searched for, as soon as possible. Conrad – send a bird to Hube. Make sure he knows I want this_ fast_. Get the word out to our police-observer teams, too, and the funky-boat watch, as well. Shin Makoku suspects an international slavery ring dealing in Mazoku healers, and _we will leave no stone unturned_. He can even tell our allies to provide guards and escort our healers home safely from their territory. Before we do it _for them_." Conrad nodded and headed for the military messenger aviary.

Wolfram pointed out quietly, "Yuuri, you realize you've got three Mazoku healers on this ship, right?" Those were the semi-trained fire healers Wolfram and Efram, and the lightly trained young true healer who served as the marines' medic.

"Yup, though I don't think we'll share that intel with Ethel. Plus one healer on Sweetwater, I hope. _Also_ under very heavy guard, unfortunately. _Next. _Who thinks letting the pirates take our hostages to Eldara Island is our best bet?"

Nobody, apparently. Adelbert voiced it first, reluctantly. "The note only mentions Flurin. And it's addressed to the Calorian Navy. The deal wasn't for _our _hostages, and wasn't offered to _us_. Too dicey." He shook his head sadly. "And I hate to say it, but I _really_ don't recommend opening new negotiations with Ethel. _Way_ too dicey."

Yuuri nodded slowly. "Then… it's the backup plan, isn't it?"

-oOo-

_Please review. I get unhappy when nobody reviews, and think maybe I shouldn't bother to finish this or write any others, because nobody cares… Please?_


	8. Efram's Battle Debut

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 8 : Efram's Battle Debut

"Efram, you're the linchpin of this whole plan," Adelbert told the boy. "We've got several high-powered Mazoku on the inside. Partly they've had no hope of running, but partly they've been disabled by houseki crystals. Especially Günter and Cecilie have majutsu that operates at full power outside Shin Makoku, once they're free of the houseki. Yuuri's brother Shouri is also a Maou, on the other world, and can also fight at full power, though he's not as skilled as Yuuri and Cecilie. Note that all of the black-haired people like Yuuri are immune to the crystals – don't waste effort on them. But even our landing parties could be disabled going in against so much houseki."

Efram whispered, "Cousin Adelbert… I can't crack every houseki crystal on the island!"

"I know – but you've got to crack free Cecilie and Günter as a priority, and as many others as you can. Yuuri will send up a flare, so they'll all know that _now_ is the time – rescue ships are here. But don't wait for that flare – if you see either of those key people, crack them free immediately. I'll be leading a diversionary assault opposite you, a head-on fight, and Yuuri will be behind me. You'll have to be brave. Do you understand?"

Efram gulped, near tears. He was sweating, a few bangs plastered to his forehead. Yuuri noticed that when wet, his hair was slightly green. His green eyes looked enormous, and the boy looked very, very young for such a key mission. Even though the situation made the backup plan more appropriate than the first plan, he was tempted to insist they go back to the main plan, and not put so much weight on this child.

"Adelbert, give me a moment," said Wolfram, standing behind Efram. He came around to sit on the table in front of Efram, bringing his eyes close to level with his, keeping a hand on his shoulder. "Efram, Adelbert's a brilliant general. But, only the toughest troops and commanders fight directly under him. So he forgets, what it's like to face your first battle. I never had more than twenty troopers under me, but… maybe that makes it easier for me to remember. Efram, no one's brave their first time in combat. Some soldiers – some very _good_ soldiers – are scared silly every time."

One of the things that made Adelbert a great general, was that he listened when people said things like this. His eyes flew open at first. Then he nodded thoughtfully at what Wolfram was saying, glad of the reminder.

"It's a crazy thing to do, isn't it?" Wolfram continued. "Risk getting yourself killed? Three things make it possible for a green soldier to do that." He ticked them off on his fingers. "One – you believe in your commander and the plan. Two – you believe in your training. You don't have combat training, but you _do _know your counter-houjutsu. But number one and number two are intellectual, food for your head. For your heart, there's number three, the most important of all – _you trust your team_. You know that the more experienced guys with you – not some commander high above, but the guys to your right hand and your left – are willing to _die_ for you. Efram, do you believe me when I tell you, that I'd die for you?"

"Yes… You'll come with me?" Efram asked with new hope in his eyes.

Wolfram nodded, meeting his green gaze. "All the way, otoutou."

"Ah," interrupted Yuuri. "I thought a team of marines was going with Efram? And Wolfram would be… with me."

Adelbert shook his head. "That was the plan, but… Wolfram's right. We can't send Efram with strangers on his first combat mission." The ex-general was looking at Wolfram with new respect.

"I'll go with you, too, little cousin," Brendan said to Efram, meeting his gaze as Wolfram had done. "Do you believe that I'd die for you?" Efram nodded somberly. "I'm not the soldier Wolfram is, but you're gone hunting with me at night. I _will_ get you to the right spot to crack your crystals. Trust me." Brendan smiled.

Efram smiled, and nodded emphatically.

"I'll go with you, too, Efram," said Conrad softly, meeting his eye. "I'd die for anyone on my team, but especially for my little brother, and his little brother."

Efram eyed him nervously, not used to grown half-Mazoku, but Wolfram nodded and said, "Perfect. Efram, Conrad is immune to houseki, and he's the best swordsman in Shin Makoku – maybe the world."

Conrad bent down, smiled his Mona Lisa smile, and tousled Efram's hair. "Believe me, otoutou's otoutou. I'd protect you with my life. And I believe in _you_."

Efram nodded shyly.

Brendan said, "I think that's as big a team as we want. We'll need sound discipline more than swords."

Yuuri gulped – they'd intended to send a half dozen seasoned marines with Efram. But Conrad and Wolfram agreed.

Adelbert nodded heavily, and said to Brendan, "You understand the lay of the land, otoutou? The little intel we have on it, anyway…"

Brendan grasped his brother's hand and arm in a handshake. "We'll find them, aniki."

Conrad shook hands with Gwendal. "Take good care of Yuuri heika for me, aniue."

Gwendal nodded slowly. "See you on the other side, otoutou."

Yuuri got suddenly shy, and bit his lip. Wolfram grinned and gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the mouth – which made Yuuri blush and grow shyer still. "See you on the other side, love," Wolfram whispered to him.

Yuuri nodded and kissed him again. Then pulling free of Wolfram's embrace reluctantly, he hugged Efram. "Thank you, Efram. On behalf of Shin Makoku, and on behalf of my family – thank you for being brave enough to attempt this mission for us." He took Efram's hand. "See you on the other side."

"Alright, let's go," said Brendan. "Not much dark left."

Gwendal's flag hydrofoil was sailing dark, pulled in between Retchwater and Sweetwater, with the hump of the island behind them hopefully masking its shape until dawn. Yuuri held tight to Efram and Wolfram's hands and walked them to the launch. The marines would drop them off, then row around to join the main assault. Wolfram squeezed Yuuri's hand briefly, then without breaking stride, let go and clambered down to the launch, so Efram did the same.

Gwendal put his hand on Yuuri's shoulder, to steer him to their own ride, so he didn't have time to watch Wolfram and his team any further. The round-bottomed pirate ship was attached to the hydrofoil with boarding nets, so Gwendal and Yuuri clambered across.

Once the crowded ship was underway, Gwendal clasped his shoulder again briefly. "Wolfram will be alright, heika," he murmured, then wandered away to encourage others in low murmurs.

Yuuri suddenly straightened in the gloom. _Good example_, he decided. He started making the rounds, too, shaking men's hands and repeating the ritual formula his military used going into action – not "Good luck", but, "See you on the other side."

-oOo-

Brendan, the gentle Lord Gratz, was amazing in the dark jungle. In his own quiet way, he'd rebelled against the family military tradition. Instead he'd stayed home to nurture the Gratz domain, leaving Adelbert free to pursue his military career, then taking over altogether when Adelbert was exiled for treason. While the others studied war, Brendan gloried in the hunt, in the mountains and high rangelands of Gratz. His three companions could barely see their own feet in the tree-filtered moonlight, let alone any trail or rhyme or reason as to how Brendan was leading them. They understood what they were trying to do – sneak up on the pirate village from the rocky hill on its inland side. They hoped this was less guarded than the side facing the lagoon, the island's sorry excuse for a harbor. But how Brendan could tell that's where they were going, was a mystery to them.

They came out of the trees so suddenly, that Brendan held his arms wide to prevent Wolfram and Efram behind him from walking off a cliff. When everyone had hunkered down, he tapped Efram and pointed. "Günter and Giesela," he murmured in the boy's ear. "Close enough?"

Efram peered. The fires had all died down by this hour, nearly dawn. Because the woods had been so much darker, he could make out the buildings, but not much else. Brendan got behind him, putting one arm around Efram's chest. He put his face to the side of the boy's and pointed with his whole arm on the other side of Efram's head, to show him. "See them?" Efram nodded _yes_. "Close enough?" Efram shook his head _no_. Then Brendan shifted his arm to point to the warehouse where he figured the rest of the prisoners were, based on the hearsay notes from Yozak. "Jail."

Brendan motioned for them all to stay put, while he studied the rockfall beneath them. He returned and tapped Wolfram, next in line after him, and motioned them all to follow. They went into trees, back out onto the rocks, and back into the trees twice, apparently going more down than up, since the village was closer each time they could see it. They came just to the edge of the trees once more, about level with the tops of the buildings, and Brendan pulled them up short again, staring intently.

Efram was in range to crack the houseki crystals on Günter and Giesela, and began weaving the spell with his hands, but Wolfram clasped his hands to stop him. _Wait on Brendan's signal._

Brendan rose and pushed them all back into the trees. He whispered to Wolfram, who in turn whispered to Efram to repeat to Conrad. "_Jail first_." Under the circumstances, no one could ask. However, now they were closer, Efram could see that Günter and Giesela were bound with chains as well as houseki crystals. He didn't know them well enough to realize this was unsurprising. But Wolfram and Conrad nodded as though they'd come to the same conclusion – it wasn't worth the risk of the slight light from Efram's spell being spotted, just to crack crystals on fighters who'd still be unable to fight.

Brendan found a well-traveled path the rest of the way down to the warehouse, but drew them off the path back into the woods at the base. He motioned them all to wait in hiding while he looked. In a few minutes he was back, motioning Wolfram and Efram to stay put, but Conrad to come. He signaled two, to the left, for Conrad, and one, to the right, for himself. Conrad nodded. They both hugged the back side of the warehouse to the corners, then disappeared from sight. Not a sound from the right preceded Brendan's return, but they did hear Conrad's sword drawn, and a low cry, quickly cut off, from one of the guards he dispatched.

Efram gulped. He'd never seen anyone die, let alone been part of killing someone before. Wolfram hugged him close. Conrad, having first strode away from their position because of the cry, took about five minutes to make it back to them. He and Brendan consulted in whispers that couldn't be heard by Efram and Wolfram right next to them, then motioned for them to head for the back wall of the warehouse.

The houseki miasma from the warehouse was sickening. Efram cast a small warding sphere around them to repel its effects. Brendan and Wolfram both clasped his shoulders in thanks. Efram found a crack in the wall and looked in, but it was utterly black inside to his moonlight-adjusted eyes.

Brendan whispered in his ear. "Lady Cecilie's the priority – let's ask someone to bring her over."

Efram shook his head. "I can do better than that. Give me five minutes."

"You've got it." Brendan told the others they were guarding Efram for now, while Efram got to work. Brendan kept his eye trained to a knothole, to let his eyes adjust to the deeper dark inside. They didn't communicate with the prisoners yet, since Efram's work was the priority, and he shouldn't be distracted.

Efram barely breathed the words, so that even Wolfram next to him couldn't make them out. "_Power of binding and power of holding, power of air and power of fire, power of water and power of earth…_" In five minutes, as promised, he had a small but eye-searing ball of orange fire with a blue core hidden in his hands – regardless of what kind of spell he cast, as a fire healer all his spells bore the same telltale colors of his inherent maryoku. He slapped the fireball to the crack he'd peeked through before and said, audibly this time, "_Bind and hold!_"

"Yowza," commented Brendan. "I thought you were going to _crack_ the crystals."

"This is better," said Efram. "All the crystals are in that one pile by the door, that's glowing now from my spell. They're bound for five hours – no effect on anybody." He let his warding sphere fall so that Brendan and Wolfram could feel for themselves.

"Well done, Efram!" congratulated Wolfram and Brendan, still in whispers.

"Time for a little noise," suggested Conrad. He called softly into the warehouse, "Hahaue?" Wolfram called as well – Cecilie would surely recogrnize both of their voices. No response. "Cecilie? It's Conrad and Wolfram," he tried again.

"Conrad! Wolfram! It's me, Shibuya Shouma." Apparently Shouma was near their wall and roused first at their calling.

"Otousan – wake everyone, quietly as you can," whispered Wolfram. Shouma woke the first couple and set them to waking others. "Is anyone chained in there?" Wolfram asked.

"Not at night. The only ones in chains are in the center by the cookfires. Günter, Giesela, Murata, and Flurin."

"Any idea where the keys are?"

"Ethel has them," replied Cheri sadly, "the real leader here – a red-haired beauty. I could probably blast them free, though, if the houseki crystals weren't in the way. They might get hurt anyway – my majutsu isn't well suited to breaking chains. But you must have a counter-houjutsu master with you – who bound the houseki pile in here?"

"Me, Aunt Cheri," murmured Efram. "It's Efram." The two were unrelated by blood. Cheri insisted Efram call her '_Aunt Cheri_', since as she explained it, it felt all wrong to be called Lady Cecilie by her baby son's baby brother. Conrad and Wolfram looked at Efram in surprise. They hadn't realized Cheri and Efram knew each other that well.

"_Ef –_!" Cheri cut off the rest of her exclamation, to understanding grins from Conrad and Wolfram, and substituted instead, "Well, you did a _magnificent_ job, sweetie."

Conrad said, "Hahaue, we'll go see to their houseki crystals. If you haven't heard from us, go ahead and blast open the door – or the whole side of the building – but wait on Yuuri's signal."

"I can pick the locks on Günter and the others," said Yozak, belatedly joining the group at the warehouse wall. "Or – I could if I had a pick."

"Stiletto do?" asked Brendan, sticking one through the knothole. Brendan carried no sword – he wasn't particularly well-versed with one. But he did carry an interesting assortment of knives. And as he'd proven with one dead guard, he knew how to use _those_ quite well.

"Perfect!" said Yozak.

"How will we know Yuu-chan's signal?" asked Yuuri's mother Miko.

"We'll know it when we see it," her older son Shouri assured her. "Probably a water dragon. Speaking of which… would one be helpful now, Conrad?"

Conrad smiled. "Maybe you could save it for breaking up large groups of hostile pirates."

"Ah, OK. Got it."

"Is there a stick back there?" inquired Shouma. "About half a man's height. I think it would fit through the knothole."

Wolfram found it and passed it through to his father-in-law-to-be.

"OK, let's move," said Brendan. "Efram, make these houseki crackings as quick as you can once we're in view, OK? The assault should be starting any minute, and we don't want all the pirates waking up and running at _us_ if we can help it."

The four hugged the wall of the warehouse toward the right, then the backs of three other buildings, Brendan in the lead. He finally turned up a narrow alley toward the clearing. He paused to look around, then turned the corner and moved up the alley until the chained captives were visible, and motioned Efram to take that spot. Assuming their greatest danger was from the village, not the hill side, Conrad and Wolfram moved in front of Efram, hugging the alley walls to either side of him, and Brendan dropped behind Efram to watch the approach from the woods.

Efram got busy cracking crystals on Günter first. Each one took time, and each one involved a slight flash of orange and blue light streaking across the clearing. By the time he'd cracked a dozen – about half – Günter was feeling the difference, and muzzily came to out of his uncomfortable doze, kneeling chained with his back to a pole. After a single glance their way, he carefully looked in every other direction, and not at them again. Instead he struggled to push himself back up to standing, chains sliding roughly up the pole. His efforts roused the other three, dozing on their feet as they'd never had the strength to pull the chains down their poles. Fortunately they too kept their eyes off the source of the little orange-blue streaks of light.

When only his smallest four houseki crystals were left, Günter flattened a palm facing the ground, a signal Efram took to mean, _Enough for me, thanks_. He switched to cracking the crystals on Giesela, anxiously. _This is taking too long. They used _way_ too many crystals – these Mazoku will be awfully sick._ Indeed, though awake, Giesela looked like a hungover zombie. And in planning this, Brendan and Efram hadn't bargained for more than about ten crystals per Mazoku. These pirates were astonishingly well supplied.

It took too long. They could hear the first clashes of steel from the beach. A pirate came yelling back to rouse his sleeping fellows, and fairly quickly the clearing came alive. More slowly and carefully, Efram cracked a couple more crystals on Giesela, trusting to the milling confusion in the clearing and noise from the beach to cover what he was doing. And it would have succeeded in going unnoticed, save that a door opened from the other building that formed the alley, just a few feet behind Efram, then was closed and barred before Brendan could leap in and silence the visitor.

As luck would have it, they'd chosen Ethel's back doorstep. She ran out the front, yelling, "Fire healer in the alley! They're worth _ten_ of the normal ones! To me, and catch him!" At which point half the milling confusion of pirates arming themselves in the clearing, resolved into heading to the alley to catch Efram.

Conrad and Wolfram lay about them with swords, but doubtless others were heading around the back, and Brendan and Efram were helpless against their swords and pikes and maces. Wolfram started to drop back to cover the rear – the alley was too narrow for him to fight side-by-side with Conrad anyway – then changed his mind as he felt a hideous-sized houseki miasma pulling closer.

"Conrad, cover me!" he cried. "I'm calling Yuuri for help!" Conrad nodded, too hard-pressed to worry about what Wolfram was up to. Calling Yuuri for backup wasn't part of any plan he'd heard. Brendan and Efram were watching the rear, so didn't notice what Wolfram was up to, either.

Sheathing his sword and hunkering down, Wolfram focused on his majutsu signature, a perfect Beautiful Wolfram flower in orange flame with blue stamens, about the size of a football. Focus attained, he suddenly threw this up to the top of the buildings, and grew it three storeys tall above that.

"Wolfram, _no!_" screamed Efram in horror. But it was already done. With few elementals to lend their power, Wolfram had drawn on his own innate maryoku to produce this huge beacon, in a sign Yuuri couldn't possibly mistake. But in doing so, he used his own life-force nearly to the limit – the same overuse of maryoku that had killed Suzanna Julia. Wolfram collapsed to the ground, barely breathing.

Unfortunately, Yuuri didn't see the sign. He was just then preparing his own 5-story gorgeous water dragon as his signal for the prisoners to break out. Gwendal caught a flash of orange through the trees, but didn't understand it, and was rather preoccupied with his end of directing the battle right then. Adelbert caught the sign and its meaning, but he was in the midst of a swordfight. He started working his way back to Yuuri to tell him.

But Cheri also saw Wolfram's flower, and had no trouble at all recognizing it for a desperate play by her darling baby boy. She blasted the front wall of the warehouse to smithereens instantly. Yozak headed for the chained captives at a trot, Shouma alongside him with his ironwood golf club. The sailors picked up anything they could find in order to help.

Shouri did as Conrad had asked. He conjured a water dragon to slosh all the Sweetwater folk away from Flurin's side of the clearing, before his own people reached there. When the wet people picked themselves up, they fled, the villagers into the woods, and the pirates toward the fighting at the lagoon. He headed for Flurin and Murata and stood ready to defend them again, if need be, until other help arrived.

Miko picked up the strawberry-blonde baby Frieda and trailed Cheri, who rushed to Wolfram's aid through the chaos of the clearing.

But Ethel, bearing the huge houjutsu weapon lashed to a stake which Wolfram had sensed approaching, reached the cornered men first, coming up behind them from the woods end of the alley. Behind her, standing a good ten feet tall, was her pet, Petunia the sand bear, looking very much like an oversized panda with fangs. One blast of houjutsu blew Brendan to the side of the alley, out of her way. Conrad couldn't turn around, sword quite busy fending off attackers from the clearing.

"_Sweet_!" said Ethel. "_Two_ fire healers!" She had no trouble realizing the one who'd made the gorgeous giant orange-and-blue flower, was the one passed out on the ground. She'd spent a _lot _of time extracting information from Adelbert about Mazoku and their weaknesses, before he'd caught on and kicked her out. All she had to do was overpower the boy, and use Petunia to tunnel an escape route with _both_ of them, until all this blew over, and then the Syndicate would make her a very wealthy woman indeed. She didn't worry about Frieda. She hoped the ritzy blonde would get her back to Shin Makoku. That was the best she could offer her baby, in any case.

She leveled the houjutsu weapon at Efram and Conrad and let fly – but the bolt of orange flame bounced harmlessly off a glowing orange-and-blue tent of energy that suddenly sprang into being. Beneath his tent, Efram was focused intently on weaving another spell, a churning orange-and-blue glowing ball growing in his hands. Furious, Ethel tried breaking down the barrier with three more shots in rapid succession – but if the barrier could be worn down by attack, her attacks so far weren't enough to do it. Efram had time to finish his spell. He dropped the shield for only a split second in order to cast his fireball, which shattered the mighty houjutsu crystal with explosive power, casting a hundred high-speed crystal shards in every direction. His instantly restored shield protected himself and his team-mates, and anyone behind him as well. The only ones hit by the sharp projectiles were Ethel and Petunia.

Ethel, clasping eye sockets pouring out blood, stumbled away helplessly in agony. Petunia wasn't nearly as disabled. In fact, she was slowly, stupidly, coming to the conclusion that she was really, _really_ pissed off now.

Efram scooted backward toward Wolfram, calling in a quavering voice, "_Conrad?_" Conrad thought he was too busy to deal with Efram's problems right now – they seemed to have been solving themselves well enough behind his back, so he wasn't really aware what his problems were – when suddenly his remaining opponents in the clearing were quite literally blown away.

"_Wolfie?!?_ _Where are you?_" screamed Cheri, coming around the corner, Miko right on her heels. Conrad stepped back out of their way, and only then looked back to see the giant sand bear advancing on Efram and Wolfram, thankfully ignoring the hunter Brendan, who was quite sure _not-moving_ was his best bet.

"_No, Petunia!_" yelled Miko, who kept right on while Cheri paused. She held up Frieda and ordered the bear, "_Protect the baby_, Petunia!" And to their amazement, Petunia obediently sat down. "Good girl, Petunia! Oh, have you been hurt? Let Mama Miko see, sweetie." Miko, with the baby, advanced on Petunia, making all sorts of soothing, crooning comments.

"_Who_ is _that?_" asked Efram of nobody, stunned and blinking.

"_Yuuri's_ mother," said Conrad, grinning. "Shibuya Miko-san."

"_Miko-chan_, Conrad, Miko-chan," corrected Miko, petting the docile Petunia and picking out shards of crystal sympathetically. Frieda petted the bear, too.

Cheri swooped down to hug Efram tight. Now that the pressure was off, he started sobbing into her bosom. Brendan and Cheri, soon joined by Efram when he got himself pulled back together, examined the fallen Wolfram. He was still breathing, but barely.

"Is there anything we can do, Efram?" Cheri murmured, with a sinking feeling. She'd already lost her dear friend Suzanna Julia just this way, twenty-odd years past – expending too much of her own maryoku, to save others.

Efram shook his head. "It's possible, but… it's really advanced, Aunt Cheri – transferring maryoku to someone. It's way beyond Giesela and me. Friedrich _might_ know how." To Efram's young eyes, his great-uncle Friedrich was prehistoric. "But I know Chichiue can't do it. Wolfram will just recover maryoku fast enough, or… not."

Yozak had already managed to free Günter and Giesela. As soon as he was free, Günter picked off the remaining houseki crystals and threw them into the woods. He charged bare-handed directly into a sword-wielding pirate. The pirate, naturally enough, swung at him – and was effectively electrocuted by the defensive field Günter instantly threw up, conducted up his sword. "I thank you for the blade," Günter commented, as he ran him through. A second and third pirate were stupid enough to charge him the same way, providing swords for Giesela and Yozak as soon as Giesela was free.

Yozak took the sword and moved on to Murata and Flurin. Giesela began swinging her blade back to back with her father. Well, actually about twenty feet separated their backs, since both were vicious with a sword, and coming inside a twenty foot radius of either of them was lethal. Giesela's now red-brown pink dress still slid off her bust, but this inspired her to ever greater bouts of ferocity. _"GAH!"_

At this point, the Shin Makoku forces were actually winning the battle on Sweetwater. Though there was still sporadic fighting, the pirate village was essentially theirs. Nestled between Conrad's sword and the alley-filling bulk of sweet Petunia, the advance houseki-cracking team was secure for the moment. With nearly as many marines as pirates, plus actively fighting freed hostages at their backs, the pirates on the beach could only lose. They'd started to figure this out and run away into the jungle by now. For once, the Shin Makoku forces, never able to count on Yuuri going Maou, didn't really need him to, in order to carry the day.

But they didn't know that yet down at the lagoon. It was then that Adelbert finally reached Yuuri. "_Heika!_ I saw a giant Beautiful Wolfram blossom, three stories high, in fire healer orange and blue! I think Wolfram's in trouble!"

Yuuri instantly began to glow blue. As he transformed into his taller, longer-haired, older Maou form, a second shadow Maou grew behind him, reaching ten stories tall, glowing ghastly grey to fill the sky. His first yell reverberated throughout the islands, so even the crew left on Gwendal's hydrofoil heard and obeyed:

"**_STOP!_" **

-oOo-

Author's notes:

Now, before you **_kill me_** for stopping there, just ask yourself, "Would I really want the author to truncate Yuuri's _best scene ever_ in Maou mode just because the chapter was too long?" (Well, best scene_ I've_ ever written with Yuuri in Maou mode…) Of course not! So just write a review, and you'll inspire me to finish the next chapter quickly, OK:smile:

_Thank you_ to those who have written reviews! Please write more? If only to say that you want me to write more?


	9. The Reckoning

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review._

Chapter 9 : The Reckoning

A glowing blue Yuuri-as-Maou stood at the base of a ten-storey ghastly grey shadow Maou, filling half the sky, as his command reverberated throughout the islands:

"_**STOP!**"_

And _stop_ they did. Everyone in hearing found themselves rooted to the spot, able to turn their heads and eyes to see, but not speak or move below the neck. The glowing Yuuri-as-Maou walked through air at about eye level, yet moved five times faster than his strides could have carried him. Stopping and sinking to the ground in front of Cheri, he picked up Wolfram and cradled the unconscious blond to his chest tenderly.

"_THIS_," the words echoed again, "_I will NOT forgive!"_ While Yuuri stood cradling Wolfram, his shadow giant swooped his arms, and people from everywhere on Sweetwater flew to stand in three sorted groups – villagers to one side of the clearing, Mazoku and friends to the other side, pirates arrayed above them on the rock-slide face of the hill. Petunia the sand bear was placed behind the Mazoku, much surprised. All remained immobilized and silenced, only able to watch.

Yuuri himself walked to the lagoon edge of the clearing and faced them all, still holding Wolfram gently in his arms. He but whispered, glowing eyes transfixed on Wolfram. His sky-spanning shadow giant boomed and gestured as if independently.

"_YOU!_" the shadow giant Yuuri pointed at the villagers. "_You harbored criminals in your lives and homes, knowing the great evil they did, in return for a PITTANCE! Your homes are FORFEIT!_" With a snap of the giant's fingers above it, the entire village was smashed to kindling.

"_YOU!_" the giant pointed to the pirates. "_You thought nothing of stealing entire LIVES to feed your greed. You envied the Mazoku, resented their long lives, sought to steal their precious healing magic, and sell it for your petty profit. You try to steal what you do not UNDERSTAND and do not DESERVE. _

"_Your syndicate destroyed the healer Annette, who sought only to help humans. You kidnapped the healer Giesela, my faithful servant, along with my entire family. You sought to sell the child Efram, my brother in law to be. And you DARED attempt to enslave my FIANCĖ! You sought to sell these healers, whose lives are more precious than ANY gold or gems, to extend lives that are MEANINGLESS! For this, your lives are FORFEIT!"_

He said this with absolute certainty – that their suspicions regarding the link between these pirates and the Suberian Syndicate, and that Annette had been a victim of the Syndicate, was fact. They'd long since realized that Yuuri in Maou mode knew things on the same vast scale as Shinou had.

Usually, at this juncture, Wolfram and his brothers could persuade the Yuuri-Maou that he'd gone far enough, to stand down without killing anyone. But not this time. Yuuri had silenced them all, so that neither Gwendal nor Conrad nor anyone else could talk him out of this. And Wolfram was barely alive. The others gazed on in horror as his oft-repeated threat of taking lives, _this_ time allowed no reprieve.

The shadow giant raised a boulder, and hammered the first pirate into the ground, such that not a trace remained. Fluttering down from the sky came thirty or so posters, drawn in the Suberian eloper-wanted poster style, with a picture of the dead pirate, and the text:

**_This man, JED, and the other 95 DEAD pirates of Sweetwater Island, of the Suberian Syndicate, wants YOU to know what happens when you threaten a MAZOKU HEALER, or any other peaceful MAZOKU of Shin Makoku._**

**_You end up DEAD. By the hand of YUURI, MAOU of Shin Makoku._**

_**JUSTICE**_

A small puff of grey light rose from where the pirate was no more. The grey of it sloughed off like a wisp of black smoke, until only a small white glow remained. This floated over to take station above the life-sized Yuuri-Maou, where he held Wolfram.

Much more quickly, the same procedure was repeated for 93 more pirates. Each generated about thirty posters. Some lights were bigger, some smaller, many nearly non-existent after the grey was blown off. All merged into a single shining ball of white light, hovering above Yuuri and Wolfram.

The process slowed again for the last remaining two pirates – the pirate leader Bob and his daughter Ethel. The shadow Yuuri pounded Bob into the ground, and a light so nearly black arose, that with the blackness wisped away, there was hardly the light of a firefly left. For Bob, instead of thirty, _three thousand_ posters fell. Last, in front of Adelbert's anguished eyes and frozen throat, Ethel was pounded. From her, the brightest light of all flew up. It was mottled with grey, but not much more than the moon is dappled with grey shadows. The grey smoked off almost unnoticeably, and a large clear light joined the brilliant white sphere above Yuuri and Wolfram.

From Ethel, not a single poster was made. Tears ran freely down Adelbert's cheeks. But he was grateful, that the Maou had spared him seeing her face and name on a poster like that. That even though she'd done evil things, and was raised to be a criminal, to believe in evil goals – as her spirit had shown, Ethel was yet not an evil person. She was a highly capable, but tragically misguided one.

The sphere above Yuuri, now quite bright with all that was good distilled from 96 souls of largely evil people, shone pure white in the dawning light. As the dawn grew, the grey shadow Maou shrunk until there was only Yuuri's normal sized shadow on the ground. Yuuri lay Wolfram down tenderly and kissed him. He stood again, drawing Morgif to pierce the sphere with his sword. A brief blue beam flared into the sky from Morgif. The onlookers' eyes dazzled from that, at first it seemed only the orange light of sunrise was turning the light globe orange. But then unmistakably, a blue core grew within it, and it seethed of flame.

When the globe was entirely converted to fire healer orange and blue flame, Yuuri withdrew Morgif. The globe turned into a Beautiful Wolfram flower. It was no larger than it had been, but far more brilliant than any Wolfram had ever summoned. The flower descended until it entered Wolfram's chest. Wolfram spasmed, back arched, as though he'd touched a high voltage wire. Then he fell back into quiet sleep, glowing with a fire healer halo from his overflowing fire healer maryoku.

"_With this, JUSTICE is served._" The Japanese characters for JUSTICE, which no one on this world could read – the same used to sign the posters – he emblazoned in black across the rockfall above.

Yuuri knelt down beside Wolfram, kissed him again, then passed out beside him on the sandy dirt. The blue glow faded into just-Yuuri, and as it died, everyone was released from their spell. The villagers fled into the jungle. Yuuri and Wolfram's family approached them very slowly.

-oOo-

Later, Conrad ordered the marines to pick up every one of the posters. They turned out to be durable as sheets of plastic, and absolutely fade-proof come rain or sun. They were brought back to Shin Makoku, then sheaves of them distributed to every port and capital in the world for posting. Some tried to tear them down, but they were replaced regularly for years. Eventually they became highly sought after collectors' items, especially popular with rulers, police forces, and wealthy criminals. Shin Makoku kept not a single one.

The entire world knew what happened when you screwed with Shin Makoku. Somehow the crude Suberian-style portraits of the dead pirates, brought home the wild and exotic tales of the Mazoku Maou, made them as personal as a tap on the chest. Crimes against Mazoku dropped precipitously. When Mazoku healers eventually began to travel abroad again, they were treated like royalty. It was said they could walk into the darkest criminal dens, and the vilest crime bosses would lay prostrate at their feet. No one was really sure whether this was urban myth – there were several decidedly odd itinerant Mazoku healers out there.

Even Lord Krist, Lord Khrennikov, Brendan Lord Gratz, and Friedrich von Bielenfeld were satisfied, that Yuuri had at last learned to truly defend his people.

Much to Wolfram's surprise, Yuuri never flinched from those posters. _Wolfram_ flinched when he ran into them, posted here and there around the world. He always wondered, gazing at one poster or another, what in himself was this pirate, or whether anything that was recognizable and true of that particular one, whether there was anything left of that person, within himself or anywhere else. He couldn't look at those posters without grieving for all humans, who lived such short lives, and knew not where their souls would go when they passed on. And he was profoundly grateful at those times, that however much human blood he had, however short a life he might live, when it came to his soul, _Yuuri_ was fully Mazoku, and would endure.

Yuuri just seemed to mentally salute the posters with respect. When he gazed at them, every trace of remaining boyishness in his face vanished, entirely changed to a man's resolve. He believed he'd done what needed to be done, and was neither proud nor ashamed of it.

-oOo-

Yuuri gradually came awake to gentle rocking and the sweet sound of lapping waves, in a warm bed. He opened his eyes to the best sight in the world, if not an uncommon one – Wolfram's brilliant emerald eyes and tousled blond hair, not a foot away from his face, propped up on an elbow. Wolfram smiled his sweetest bishounen smile – not a stage smile, but the _real_ one – and brushed Yuuri's bangs out of his eyes. They were in a cabin on Cheri's yacht, around noon judging from the light. Yuuri smiled back his warmest at Wolfram, happy and at peace. Very slowly that huge smile faded as he recalled what he'd done before he passed out in the clearing.

"What's wrong, love?" Wolfram asked softly, his beautiful smile turned sad. He kissed Yuuri gently on the lips, but pressed him back on the chest when Yuuri tried to escalate the kiss. He pointed behind Yuuri. Yuuri turned to see Efram asleep on a chair beside him, starting to rouse a little from the voices. "What happened after I… passed out, Yuuri?"

"I didn't see your signal – Adelbert did. When he told me eventually, I… shattered the village. I killed all the pirates. I used their souls to restore your maryoku."

Efram came awake, but cowered in his chair. "Are you two… normal now?"

Wolfram stared at Yuuri in wonder. He answered slowly, "Yeah… we're alright. Efram… are you…?"

Efram stood abruptly, to edge out of the room. "I'll… go tell the others you're awake…"

"No," said Yuuri, "we'll go." He climbed out of bed. They were both still fully dressed, just their shoes left by the door.

"I'd like to talk to Efram first, Yuuri. I'll be along soon," said Wolfram. Yuuri nodded, gave him a peck of a kiss, and left. Efram flattened himself to the wall as he passed.

"Efram… are you alright? That was… a hell of an experience for you. You did a brilliant job with your counter-houseki… You look pretty scared of Yuuri."

Efram sat on the bed next to Wolfram, staring at the deck. "I'm OK. Brendan sat with me a long time after we brought you here. Yuuri… I wanted like anything to be able to restore your maryoku, to be that strong. Then I saw what it really was, and… he's like a _god_ or something."

Wolfram nodded. "When he's in Maou mode, yes. But when he's Yuuri, he's very much just a person. He'd never turn on us, Efram, you realize that, don't you?" Efram nodded, looking relieved.

"Efram, I… wanted to talk to you, before anything else happened. About Chichiue and your Aunt Dierdra's baby? I know Chichiue told us to leave it behind us in that room that day, but… I really don't want to leave it there between us." Efram gave him a poker-faced evaluating stare. "You can spit at me if I piss you off."

"Deal." Efram turned to face him, cross-legged on the bed.

"So… I didn't dare annoy Chichiue any more that day. And really Yuuri and I were nowhere near straightening out that fight you overheard." Efram snorted. Wolfram grinned wryly. "I just wanted you to know, Efram – I heard you, loud and clear. And so did Yuuri. This whole thing with adopting a baby of Chichiue's started a couple years ago. Chichiue was fighting with Hahaue, and they were talking about having a daughter. And I want to adopt a baby… But I almost wanted a _full_ sister more than a daughter, you know? I love Conrad and Gwendal. I don't get to see you so much, so it's always like we're meeting again as strangers, but every time, it's painful to let you go again. But you're still all half brothers. Something about a _full_ sibling still seemed kinda magic, even after all these years."

"Wolfram, you're really too old for that. You could never get a _full sibling _out of a baby. I can, though. But if you have to adopt kids, but wish you could have your own… a half-brother would be about perfect." Efram conceded grudgingly.

"Yeah. Of course… I also have a half-brother right here who's a better match for me than Conrad and Gwendal. I've waited a long time for you to get big, pixie."

Efram snorted. "Sorry for the wait, vixen." Manfred's yank-your-chains nicknames for them were a natural for brotherly chats.

"So… about the _wimp_," Wolfram continued. "Oh, you can't imagine how disgusted Gwendal and I were when he first showed up. And to be _engaged_ to the idiot! _By mistake! _It was a mortifying nightmare. For about… oh, maybe a day." Wolfram grinned at Efram shyly. "He kinda grew on me…"

Efram grinned back. "A whole _day_? Like a _cancer,_ vixen. You're such a hopeless love slave. You better not let these guys you fall in love with, walk all over you."

Wolfram laughed. "Um, thanks for your concern, pixie. But I, uh, manage to be pretty assertive." He smiled at his brother ruefully.

"_That's_ more my brother," Efram nodded emphatically.

"Anyway, Yuuri… We've got a big problem. Even I didn't even realize the full size of it til that day, but… My husband-to-be… He's only 17 now. But he, um, expects to die of old age when he's _my_ age, Efram."

"_What?_ Is this some disease?"

"No, he's… human. Yeah, he's full _Maou_, and has _Shinou's_ full powers. And we call him half-Mazoku. But only a handful of Mazoku went to his world. They bred completely with the humans there. And even their humans live shorter lives than ours. If everything goes well, I… might get sixty or seventy years with him."

Wolfram looked Efram in the eye, pleading. "Can you understand? _That's_ why. Why we were arguing about whether adopting a Mazoku baby was a good idea, and why it was so upset and ugly too. There's… a whole lot of anguish there."

Efram nodded thoughtfully, staring at Wolfram. "I'm sorry, Wolfram. You're right. I never realized that part." He thought a moment. "But you shouldn't give up having a full Mazoku baby. If you have only human or half-Mazoku kids, they'll never be… as _yours_ as his. And just when you're hurting most from losing him, you'll be losing your children too, your children all dying of old age while you're still a young man. That'd be _horrible._"

"Yeah –" Wolfram's voice caught. He cleared his throat and pulled himself together a moment before going on. "Yeah. Anyway. So that's what we decided. We really, _really_ want to adopt Dierdra's baby. To be _our_ son, but… my son."

"Bielenfeld soul? Can't be your son without a Bielenfeld soul."

"_Von_ Bielenfeld. He'll be my heir as well. But I want you to have your almost-full-brother, too, Efram. More than that – I want you to be my, um, more full half-brother? And Yuuri – for him it would almost be better if I adopted a big kid like you –"

"Not for sale or rent, vixen. I've got parents!"

"I know, I know. You've got close half-siblings, too. I just wish… I were one of them, you know? I'm not talking about adopting you as a kid. I'm asking if you could maybe visit a couple months a year. You'd really get a chance to be brothers with the baby, and _we'd_ really get a chance to be brothers. And Yuuri'd get a chance to see more of a… Mazoku growing up. And, you'd fall for the wimp sooner or later too, everyone does."

"I _really_ don't see what you see in him. He's a _wimp_, who turns into a _monster_ part-time."

"So come stay with us and find out. Even if Chichiue decides not to give me the baby. I still want you to come stay with us – a _lot_. And get to know Yuuri. It's pretty mind blowing, really. He just kinda… believes in the impossible and insane with all his heart, and somehow the delusion's contagious, and before long, everyone's doing the ludicrous thing he decided on. Watch how this pirate mess works out. Somehow, everyone will come out of it friends, and somehow it'll all be Yuuri's fault. Seriously, it has to be seen to be believed."

"_Pathetic. Love. Slave_. You're a sad, sad case, vixen."

Wolfram laughed out loud. "Maybe you're right, pixie. I don't want the cure, though."

"I won't pretend to be my baby brother's uncle, or that you or Yuuri are my fathers, or any crap like that."

Wolfram shook his head in complete agreement. "No lies. Though… I'd be angry with you if you ever made my son feel bad because Chichiue let meadopt him. Yuuri and I aren't perfect, but we've got a lot of love and good friends and family and a good home. Chichiue wouldn't give his son to anyone who couldn't raise him right. Truth, yes – but watch your spin on it."

Efram thought it over. "Yuuri doesn't like me."

"Not true," Wolfram said emphatically. "You blew him away that day you got burned. You were brave, honest, admitted where you were wrong, stood up to really intimidating people where you felt you were right. Asked your questions. Said what you meant. We were both impressed as hell. I was really proud to be your brother that day, pixie. And ever since then… even more so."

Efram nodded his thanks, and thought another moment. "Alright. Deal. And… I'll talk to Chichiue. It was my eavesdropping that made him reconsider giving you the baby. I'll tell him what I think now. He'll come around. I owe you that."

Wolfram's eyes teared up. He stared into his brother's eyes, and breathed, "_Thank you,_ Efram."

"You really are a pansy, vixen." Efram grinned his best beautiful evil green-eyed demon smile, quickly matched gleam for gleam by Wolfram, and they hugged each other tight.

-oOo-

When he emerged on deck, Wolfram was swamped in hugs and greetings from his mother and Shibuya in-laws, of course. Eventually, he escaped them and got to ask Adelbert, Brendan, and Conrad about the adorable baby girl they were sitting with.

"Mine," said Adelbert. "Ethel the pirate's daughter – Frieda." Wolfram's eyes flew open wide. "Actually, cousin… I was talking to Conrad about finding someone to adopt her. He suggested… you and Yuuri might?"

"_Yuuuuri! Come here!_" Wolfram called, and knelt in delight to pick up the baby. "Oh, Adelbert! Are you _sure?_ Yuuri, Adelbert's asking if we can adopt this darling girl!"

Cheri and Miko watched in delight, as Yuuri hugged Wolfram and the baby. "I already said yes, love." He smiled and put his forehead to Wolfram's, who grinned. "I was pretty sure you would, too."

"Absolutely! Thank you, _thank you_, Adelbert!"

Conrad smiled softly and cautioned, "I'm glad little Frieda is so wanted, but… I hope all of you will think this through on the way back to Shin Makoku -"

His concerns were interrupted by the late return of some stragglers on a launch from the island. Giesela had stayed behind to tend the wounded marines and villagers, and Murata and Yozak and Günter to help her. Flurin wanted to talk to the villagers, and Gwendal wouldn't leave the island until all his wounded were evacuated.

"Ahoy, there, hotshot _von_ Weller!" called Yozak to Conrad. "I hear you got a promotion while I wasn't watching!" He jumped aboard and grabbed Conrad in a hug. "_I_ think you should have picked von _Lutenberg_. But still, things are looking up for us half-Mazoku, huh?"

Flurin climbed up next, with Günter. Yuuri asked Flurin how it went, and she said, "Quite well! Caloria will send out crews to help them rebuild."

"Shin Makoku will bear the cost," said Yuuri.

"Not a bit of it," insisted Flurin. "The islanders have agreed to become Calorian citizens. There will be no more pirates here. In fact, Giesela and Ken were suggesting these islands would make a romantic vacation resort."

"_I'd_ happily honeymoon here," said Murata Ken, coming aboard. "Beats crowded Guam and Hawaii any day, eh, Shibuya?" Yuuri and Wolfram pursed their lips. Pretty as the islands were, they'd sooner honeymoon in a flea-bitten motel than _here_. Murata seemed to have a rather different perspective on the place.

"Flurin!" said Wolfram in surprise. "Is that… was that your bride's-maid dress? Oh, that turned out lovely on you! I'm sorry I didn't get to see it on you, before it got so worn. I was _sure_ that pink would look good on you, and it turned out even better!"

Flurin smiled gratefully, and did a little pirouette to show off the dress. Yozak growled warningly. Günter and Gwendal gave the tired Giesela a hand up over the railing and onto the yacht.

"And how did it look on you, Giesela?" Wolfram continued, his smile turning to a frown of style-offended distaste. "And… what are you wearing _now_…"

Wolfram himself, as a matter of course, had taken time belowdecks for a wash, and to exhange his jungle-stained and sleep-rumpled uniform, for slate blue chinos and a white short-sleeved Oxford borrowed from Murata's luggage. His hair was brushed to golden perfection._ Of course._

Giesela took one look at him, and went rabid. She screeched, "_GAH!_ Wolfram von _fucking_ Bielenfeld!" Gwendal and Günter restrained her bodily from flying across the deck to attack Wolfram.

Flurin and Cheri fell into each other's arms, stifling giggles. Fingers to her lips, Flurin explained, "Pink isn't quite her color…"

"_GAH! MURATA!_"

"Yes, dear?" Murata came quickly to her, all smiles. Gwendal and Günter released Giesela dubiously.

Giesela slapped Murata across the face, fortunately not at full force, since the full force of her swordswoman's arm would have knocked the youth across the deck unconscious. "_Marry me_. Now. Before I cut this damned dress off and feed it to the _lobsters_. I will never, _EVER_ wear a dress again! _GAH!_" That last was directed at Wolfram again, who took a step back and grasped Yuuri's arm.

"_Yes_, dear!" answered Murata, grinning from ear to ear. "Yuuri, Flurin, will you stand with me? And Shibuya okaasan, otousan, will you stand in for my parents?"

"_No!_" yelled Giesela, as Wolfram hesitantly stepped forward to stand as her brides'-man. "_Yuuri_ performs the wedding. _Cheri and Yozak_ stand for me. _Shouri and Flurin_ stand for Ken! Wolfram – _GAH!_"

Shouri zipped belowdecks to grab his digital camera – his luggage also included a complete array of computer, photo printer, ink cartridges, batteries, and a generator, and no doubt plenty of dating sims and hentai anime, much to Yuuri's disgust.

During the lull in the proceedings, Cheri sidled up to Gwendal. "Isn't this romantic?" she murmured. "You're not really going to let _Manfred_ marry Annissina, are you, Gwendal?" She'd surprised herself with just how disturbed she was to hear about this betrothal business from Adelbert, and was determined to put a stop to it. "It's now or never, Gwendal – make this a double wedding…" She shoved him toward Annissina.

Gwendal, who'd still been quite thoroughly torn on this issue, allowed his mother to persuade him. Heart in throat, he approached Annissina, recently arrived on deck with a scary array of violently-colored seething beakers.

"Ah, Gwendal!" she said, eyes gleaming maniacally. "Just who I needed. Hold this." She shoved a poisonously yellow-green frothing beaker into one of his hands. "And this," a yellow wire went in his other hand. The returning Shouri stopped in his tracks to watch.

"Ah, Annissina…" attempted Gwendal. "You weren't really going to marry Manfred…"

"Manfred?" she asked, with a puzzled frown, still intent on a red wire and sludgy purple vial.

"Ah, I mean, I want to ask… _GAH!!!_" Gwendal snatched back his shocked fingers and hastily returned the now clear beaker to the tray.

"It worked!" said Annissina in delight. "Now, what did you want to ask, Gwendal?"

Gwendal slapped her across the face, with considerably more hostility and relish than was really polite for the purpose. He hissed, "Marry me, here and now, _Annissina._"

Her face broke into a beatific smile. "Why, Gwendal! I thought you'd never ask! Of course!" And she slapped him back – hard enough to make him stagger.

Conrad and Brendan debated whether to warn Yuuri and Wolfram they might want to take this opportunity to elope. They could always fix it up with Ulrike at the temple later. And their court protocol officer – presently sobbing on anyone who'd listen about his _sweet baby girl_ getting married, and to the _glorious_ incarnation of the _Great Sage_, no less! – would never be this much of a pushover again.

They asked Gwendal's opinion, whether they should come clean about Aldrich's plot yet – to a barked answer of "_No!_" Conrad and Brendan took this to mean they'd missed some twist or turn in Aldrich's plan, so kept quiet. Of course, what it really meant was that Gwendal had cold feet the size of icebergs about marrying Annissina.

Cheri knew nothing of Aldrich's plot. However, she'd had a long discussion with Manfred when she went up to Bielenfeld to deliver the wedding invitation in person – and enjoy a little wedding-inspired nookie. She hadn't really wanted to broach the subject with the Shibuyas while she was still stuck with them, but she'd made _quite_ clear to Gwendal that they were riding back on _his_ ship.

She joined the Shibuyas on deck, waiting for the first wedding to get underway. "Ah, Miko-san, Shouma-san. Wolfram's father Manfred and I had a bit of a delicate question. We were wondering… well, none of Manfred's human friends married before they were in their twenties. Isn't Yuuri… a little young? At what age do humans normally marry in your world?"

"At _least_ twenty-five!" insisted Shouri, glad _someone_ finally had the sense to ask _him_.

Shouma swatted him and said, "No one asked you." To Cheri, he said, "Actually, I was thirty, but Miko-san was twenty-two. Over twenty-one is… more reasonable. We weren't very happy about them getting married yet…"

"But they're so in love, and already rather, um," suggested Miko. "And raising Greta together…"

"So… you went ahead and gave your blessing at seventeen?" prodded Cheri.

"They didn't ask," said Shouma bluntly. "If they had… I would have said eighteen at an _absolute_ minimum. Preferably after finishing school. But… this isn't our world he's living in, so…"

Cheri was glad she'd volunteered at that – no doubt the conversation would have deteriorated _badly_ had anyone let slip to scholar Manfred that Yuuri hadn't finished his basic schooling even by Earth standards. He was already unhappy enough with how ignorant Yuuri was, especially as a match for _Wolfram_, nearly as intellectual as Manfred. "Well… thank you…" said Cheri. She didn't know how to tactfully make it any clearer that _Wolfram's parents disapprove_ – but it was _their_ place, not hers and Manfred's, to object that Yuuri was too young. Hopefully, with all this… the wedding would just be postponed anyway, and no one would need to get _tacky_ about it.

In the end, Annissina and Gwendal were married first, to permit Giesela and Murata to serve as bride's-man and –maid before their wedding made them unsuitable. Brendan and Giesela stood for Gwendal, and Flurin and Murata for Annissina. Since Annissina had no family present, Yuuri's parents subbed in that role, so that Gwendal's mother and brothers could stand with him. Yuuri performed the ceremony and Shouri took pictures. Giesela was rabidly insistent that _no one_ changed clothes until both weddings were over. Not even her father dared debate her on that point. So the pictures were… colorful.

They swapped out and Giesela and Murata were married. Günter _sobbed_. Murata endured his father-in-law's vast emotional hugs. Yuuri swatted Shouri and stole the digital camera, insisting he took _perfectly good pictures_ and as Murata's groomsman, Shouri had to be _in_ them. Shouri, miffed, took pictures of the guests afterwards and disappeared belowdecks to get intimate with his photo printer.

"So, sargeant!" called Yozak from the sidelines. He was sitting on the yacht's railing, legs and arms draped around Conrad from behind. "When are you going to strip off the dress? Take it off, take it off, take it _all_ off…" Conrad whacked him.

"Mm, the water looks nice, dear…" said Murata, with a wicked smile. "Maybe we should…"

"Don't you dare, Ken!" said Giesela, laughing as Murata backed her to the side of the yacht. "_No_!" she cried as he tossed her overboard, diving off the side right behind her.

Wolfram handed Frieda off to his mother. He and Yuuri and Efram and Flurin all jumped in together. Shouma and Miko went below to manhandle their _cave-dwelling geek son_ outside and dump him overboard, before they jumped in as well. The sailors and captain decided it looked like great fun, and joined in.

Yozak and Conrad tossed over Günter and Annissina and Gwendal, before wrestling with each other. Yozak won – Conrad went swimming first. He called down sweetly, "So, _Lord von_ _Weller._ When are _you_ going to put a dress on and let me make an honest woman of you?"

Conrad replied, "How's your schedule look the week after hell freezes over?"

"It's a _date_, sweetie! _Banzai!_" Conrad narrowly avoided Yozak cannonballing him.

Efram asked Wolfram, "Um, I thought Yozak was the… because he likes wearing dresses, so… does that mean Conrad's the –"

"Pixie, you _really_ need to get your mind off other people's sex lives," Wolfram answered, dunking him. When he came back up, Yuuri added, "And stay out of our _bedroom!_" and dunked him again.

While Murata was playing with Giesela's dress, it slipped off and sank to the lobsters. Murata galantly offered her his white T-shirt to cover her modesty. Unfamiliar with the properties of T-shirts, Giesela accepted it gratefully. The extremely stretchy wet shirt did come down to mid-thigh, and would stay on either, if not both, of her shoulders. Murata said she looked enchanting, and managed to stage-manage things for the rest of the evening, such that she never really did catch on to how revealing a wet white T-shirt could be.

Cheri and Frieda were the last ones left on the yacht, enjoying the view as the sun set over the romantic pirate isles of Gag, Retch, Death, and Sweetwater. She trusted Flurin would do something about the names for vacation marketing purposes.

"Oh, look, Frieda! See the _bear_? Wave to Chichiue and Uncle Brendan!" Frieda waved at the round-bottomed pirate ship, carrying the giant sand bear. A launch had come between weddings, conveying the villagers' request that the marines _do something_ about Ethel's pet Petunia – preferably kill her. Conrad ordered them to convey the bear to Gwendal's flagship. He figured he'd either get Ryan to take it, or repatriate it to Suberia. The marines were much put out that Miko wasn't available to handle Petunia, but Brendan and Adelbert volunteered, grinning broadly. Bear-handling sounded like a fun challenge to the burly brothers from the hunt and herding land of Gratz.

Cheri gazed into the romantic sunset, everyone splashing below. "Your grandfather Manfred sure knew how to make a party boat, Frieda," she sighed. She wished Manfred was here.

-oOo-

_Thank you_ to those who have written reviews! Please write more? If only to say that you want me to write more?


	10. Homecoming

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review. _

Chapter 10 : Homecoming

"Hey. You don't have to prove you're a man to me, Wolfram," Yuuri said, gently relocating his hand from where it had wandered. They'd just gone to bed in their cabin on Gwendal's hydrofoil, now underway back to Shin Makoku. Yuuri wasn't opposed to role reversal, even instigated it sometimes. But… he had a suspicion he knew where it was coming from, this time. "I know who you are, and love you that way. What's up, love?"

Wolfram sat up, leaning against the bulkhead and cuddling Yuuri to his chest, stroking his hair and jaw the way he liked. And as Yuuri expected, he circled round instead of facing the question directly. "I invited Efram to stay with us a few months a year. And even if we adopt Frieda, I still want to adopt Dierdra and Chichiue's baby. And babies and adolescents are a lot more trouble than a girl Greta's age… Are you really OK with us quadrupling our children, Yuuri? "

"Very," Yuuri said, nuzzling Wolfram's chest. Wolfram didn't continue, and he sighed. "I think… raising children will give you some scope. Being my political advisor isn't enough to keep a man of your talent and energy occupied. Advising me is kinda frustrating, too, since it takes us so much back-and-forthing to come to some point in the middle – that's a _good_ thing, but it is frustrating. You love raising children, you're good at it, you find it fulfilling. And I love doing it with you, though you'd do most of the work. And… as for you going back to active duty in the military… Do you remember that conversation we had with your father, when he declared you '_healed enough_' after your rape in Mizrat? When he said… that one suicide attempt in action might be something you could get past in time, and be restored as a line officer, but two…?"

"He called it an '_established habit of heroic self-destruction_', and officers like that tend to get themselves and their men killed instead of getting the job done. And who do you suppose the medical examiner for Bielenfeld officers is?" Wolfram said bitterly.

Yuuri stroked Wolfram's chest and side. "That's not really the point, is it? It's not a question of '_getting past_ _Manfred'_. You could try. Eventually I imagine the appeal would land on my desk, or Gwendal's. And for us, the question would end up exactly where it started – is he right? You volunteered to go with Efram with the words, '_I'd die for you_'. And you damned near did, by your own choice of… heroic self-destruction. Wolfram, what you did… worked. You saved Efram's life. Maybe it was the only way, maybe it was the best way. But it seems Manfred's point was, that he feared you'd set yourself up that way, time after time, until you got killed, if anyone let you. So… you tell me. Was he right? When this appeal comes to Manfred's desk, or Gwendal's, or mine, would we be signing a death warrant? We _love_ you, Wolfram."

"So you'll permanently retire me as a mental case. Because you love me."

"If you really need to make it my fault, or Manfred's, go right ahead. I'm sure we'd both rather take the blame for _that_, than for signing your death warrant. But it's not our fault. I don't think it's your fault, either. It's not a question of fault. Was it Manfred's '_fault_' his leg is permanently lamed? He took irreversible damage in the line of duty. So did you. Something happened that royally _sucks_, and you bear the consequences for the rest of your life. It makes me furious to think anyone would call what happened to you any more shameful than what happened to him, or any more your '_fault_'. When _you're_ ashamed of you… I cry for you, love."

Wolfram started crying softly, and hugged Yuuri tight . "It scares me," he said. "I'm so dependent on you. And yeah, it's like… I'm not a man because I'm so dependent."

"Stop that." Yuuri held Wolfram's face and looked him in the eye. "I depend on you, _absolutely_. So does our family. There's nothing _wrong_ with depending on the people you love. If that makes me less a man, then screw being a '_man'_. I'd far rather have _you_."

Wolfram sniffed a half-laugh. "…Yeah. You're right. I guess I'd never be willing to give up being dependent on you. I guess I'm kinda stuck with just… forgiving myself for that."

Yuuri laughed out loud. "Uh-huh. Well. When you forgive yourself for being in love with me…"

Wolfram wiped his eyes and chuckled. "I think I've already managed that. Thanks… I guess I needed to talk."

"You're welcome. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a beautiful blond make love to _me_ for a change."

"And here I thought you were objecting to that," said Wolfram. He flipped Yuuri onto his back and pinned his hands, and threw a leg over his legs to pin them as well.

"Nope. No objection. In fact… I think we should make it part of our '_make love to make a baby_' magic. Third time's a charm."

Wolfram kissed him, still pinned, deep and hard. "No going Maou on me tonight, I hope."

"Oh, been there, done that already today. Every day for the past three, actually… You're calling _you_ a mental case? What do you call a man who has no control over an über-powerful monster inside him who comes out and kills 96 people…" Yuuri's voice was bleak.

"I call him… Yuuri," _kiss_, "my love," _kiss_, "wimp… So, OK, two mental cases. I'd offer to give you a chance to talk, Yuuri, but I'm afraid I'm just too _busy _right now." _Kiss._ "Oh, Mazoku soul, brave enough to have two mental cases for fathers, let our love-making draw you to us…"

-oOo-

Manfred sat on the steps from the gallery, looking out on the entrance courtyard of Blood Pledge Castle, waiting. Efram made it up from the harbor first, having taken a running leap off the yacht before even the crew did, and ran the rest of the way uphill. He flew into his father's arms, knocking him back. Manfred hugged him tight.

"So, am I grounded for life? I _did_ leave a note. Did you tell Hahaue? I missed you so much. I was scared! Was the baby born yet? I talked Aunt Cheri into '_opening it up_' on the yacht on the way back. That was so cool! Gwendal ate our wake!" Manfred laughed. "What? Aren't you going to ask me how I am?"

"Ask _what_? You're obviously fine, and you had the time of your life. _And,_ you didn't let me get a word in edgewise, fire pixie."

"I'm sorry." Efram hugged him again, and held on this time. "Did I tell you how much I missed you yet?" Manfred nodded and held him just as tight, until he started to wriggle, then sighed and reluctantly let him go again. "Oh, Chichiue! About the baby. I talked with Wolfram. I know I said I didn't want you to give them the baby, but I take it back. I think you should. And… I want to stay here with them for a few months, with the baby. Or if the baby's going home with you… I'd want to stay with Wolfram a few months anyway. We want to be 'more full brothers'. Is that OK?"

_He's growing up so fast_… "Very OK. In fact… it would probably be best for now, because… I need to live at Castle Bielenfeld most of the time this year. I don't think you'd be very happy there, commuting to the Institute."

"_Blech._ How come you're moving to the castle?"

"Um, mind if I hold onto that story until the grown-ups get here? I don't feel like telling it all day. _However._ While you're waiting, you can go give your Aunt Dierdra and your new baby brother a kiss."

Eframs eyes lit up and he grinned and threw his arms around his father again briefly. "Are you keeping him or giving him to Wolfram? Did you decide yet?"

"Well, I decided to keep him, but then the damnedest thing –" Manfred broke off laughing. Efram was already dashing up the gallery toward Dierdra's room, yelling "Hey, everybody! We're home!"

"Energetic youngster, isn't he?" asked Ted von Trondheim, coming to join Manfred on the steps. "Done with your sleight of hand yet?"

"Not quite –" He broke off, all other thoughts evacuating his head, when Cheri rode into the courtyard. Ted just looked away smiling. Cheri dismounted and ran into Manfred's arms. "I'm so glad you're safe," he murmured into her hair. He held her every second he thought he could get away with, then let her go and gallantly bowed her to be seated on the stairstep next to him. "So, no passengers?"

"Just Efram. I trust he already zoomed by?"

Manfred chuckled. "Been and gone. He's greeting his new baby brother now. He'll be back when Dierdra gets tired of him bouncing off the walls. I imagine Greta's with him by now, too. Do we… have a few hours before Gwendal gets here?" he asked hopefully. "Efram said you '_opened it up_'..."

"Only for a few minutes. _Someone_ told him about climbing the _rigging_. Oh, before they get here, I spoke to the Shibuyas. Mother Miko votes eighteen, father Shouma twenty-one, elder brother Shouri twenty-five. But they won't push their views on their son… Well, I can relate." Manfred nodded ruefully – not easily done. "But we can manage eighteen, right? Did you get rid of all the wedding guests?"

Manfred laughed. "_I _don't run this castle, woman! But yes, wedding successfully cancelled, guests evicted. You want to tell them for us? Ted and I'd be much obliged…"

"The _guilty_ isn't here, is he?" observed Ted wryly.

"Hold ranks, Ted," Manfred advised. "We lead with the Mizrati invasion, then take group kudos for evading disaster. _Then_ tell them their wedding was a casualty. If you break ranks and pin blame, heaven help you with Aldrich's next scheme…"

"_Oooh_! There's no way I'm going to get this story before _they_ get here, is there?" pouted Cheri. "Oh, well. The baby! Does he look like Efram? I'm picturing cornsilk-yellow-green hair and _gorgeous_ green eyes. Are you still going to give him to Wolfram?"

"Yes, _just_ like Efram, cornsilk-green hair. Actually, his eyes are a bit on the aqua side – gorgeous, of course." Mazoku babies grew slower, but started out a bit advanced over human ones, eyes open within a few hours of birth. "I'd about decided to keep him myself, but the damnedest thing –"

"Ah!" Cheri interrupted with a finger to his lips. She whispered in his ear. "I hear the mob coming. This is sure to be a circus. Can I slip into your room tonight?"

"_Definitely_…" Manfred stood, slightly-taller gorgeous blonde on his arm, as Gwendal's company rode in. He let them come to him – it just made people uncomfortable when a cripple limped to meet them.

Gwendal and Conrad dismounted and greeted them first, the Gratz brothers hanging back. Manfred's eyes narrowed at the baby Adelbert was carrying – none of the bird-borne briefings had mentioned _her_. But Gwendal said, "Lord Bielenfeld, I presume? Congratulations. Any… casualties? No? Good."

"_Lord Bielenfeld?_" said Cheri, eyes wide, head spinning with the possibilities.

Manfred shook his head at her to wait. _One thing at a time, love._ "And congratulations to you, Gwendal. And Annissina! May I kiss the bride?"

"_No_," answered Gwendal.

"Of course!" answered Annissina, and flung her arms around Manfred to exchange a kiss.

"I didn't offer to kiss _you_, Gwendal," Manfred said through her red hair, with a demon smile.

As the Shibuyas arrived, Cecilie made the introductions,Yuuri and Wolfram having lagged behind from waving at the crowds. "Shibuya Miko-san – _Miko-chan_, yes, haha… – Shibuya Shouma-san, and Shibuya Shouri-san. I'd like you to meet Wolfram's father, Lord Manfred von Bielenfeld."

Manfred didn't correct her. "Hello, hello! Pleased to meet you! It's clear where Yuuri gets his looks." _And hopefully his heart, and not his brains._ He beamed smiles. "We were so relieved to hear of your safe recovery from the pirates. You've had quite an adventure."

"Manfred-sensei," Shouma greeted him, shaking hands. "Yuuri tells us you're a cockroach-scientist."

"I beg your pardon?"

Conrad stepped in hurriedly, before Manfred's sense of humor got loose. "The _translator_ does interesting things with words that don't translate. Ah – Manfred, they have a kind of healer who specializes in mental problems. Yuuri was perhaps over-simplifying…"

"Ah! _Blecch_, no. Ah, Mazoku healers, we don't specialize. We just heal with all that we _are_, and that… grows over time, with what we've experienced in life. And sometimes, we have cases that lead us to mine the experience of previous soul lives as well…"

"You said we're not supposed to do that," said Efram and Wolfram in unison, arriving from front and back about then. Efram came with Aldrich and Greta, who leapt down to throw herself into her fathers' arms with a whoop.

"You weren't ready yet," clarified Manfred. "Ah, perhaps Yuuri also told you, all the men in our family – the von Bielenfelds – share one of the healing gifts –"

"But Chichiue's the best," interrupted Efram.

"Actually, my Uncle Friedrich's the best, and _you're_ interrupting," said Manfred.

Wolfram asked, "But then why did he give Annette to you, Chichiue?"

"She was completely non-responsive and a friend of mine…" Manfred got distracted by a grizzled sergeant in Bielenfeld blue coming into the courtyard. He waved the man over, since he would have hung back rather than interrupt – unlike his _sons_…

Aldrich picked up the conversation thread. "Wolfram, when someone deadens out, the first trick is to break through and engage them. But… people deaden out for a reason, because they believe they can't handle something. And they're right. So, my father was using Manfred's relationship with Annette to break through, before she just drifted away beyond reach. He probably would have taken her back for the long haul. She just… broke through faster and harder than they expected."

"You've handled cases like that, too? Completely nonresponsive?" Wolfram didn't think such cases were common.

"It's just a matter of degree," said Aldrich kindly, meeting his eye. "Someone at _that_ level of deadening out – I'd leave to my father and yours." _Though I could probably have handled someone at the level you suffered two years ago_, went unsaid, though Wolfram caught it. Aldrich and Friedrich were just as talented as Manfred – they were just busy running the domain. Manfred had outstripped Aldrich, but Friedrich had spent several centuries devoted to healing, before he and his grandson Wolfred unexpectedly inherited Bielenfeld.

"Ah, Shibuya-san-tachi, my elder cousin Lord Aldrich von Bielenfeld – my surrogate older brother," Manfred belatedly introduced. "Sorry, a bit of a three-ring circus here this afternoon. Ah, Sergeant Griesel – all in order, then?"

"Ready to roll, Lord Bielenfeld," said Griesel, bowing and handing him a sheaf of paperwork.

"Griesel! Good to see you!" said Wolfram, coming up and giving the elder man a hug. "Where are von Dienst and Andrei? Wait – _Lord Bielenfeld?_" He addressed that last to his father.

But Griesel answered. "We left Andrei at home when we mobilized. Von Dienst is with the regiment at Mizrat Prospect garrison. I'm just here leading the supply train."

"I don't think they got any of our birds, sergeant…" murmured Manfred, who was getting Cheri's help with some arithmetic on his paperwork. Cheri looked boggled.

The expedition had _not_ received any birds from Shin Makoku. It's far easier to train a bird to 'fly home' than to 'fly to a boat somewhere in the ocean'. They had techniques that made the probability of success greater than zero, but no one really expected the mail to get through.

Wolfram found it hard to know what part of Griesel's remarks to grab hold of. "Aren't you… a little senior to be supervising a supply train, Griesel?"

Griesel laughed. "Not _this_ supply train."

"I would have sent his officer, as well," mentioned Ted, the Blood Pledge Castle garrison commander. "That the last of it?"

"I have _every_ confidence in Sergeant Griesel," Manfred said, smiling at the man. "And no idea whether to trust the Krist and Khrennikov commanders. Better to leave von Dienst in Mizrat Prospect. Almost done, Ted…" Manfred bent back to his paperwork.

"Did you say von _Dienst?_" broke in Adelbert. "How in hell did Friedrich get the genius von _Dienst _back in the field? I tried everything! Even offered him _my_ job!"

"Boy bait," murmured Manfred. "I got him to take the Bielenfeld Regiment about a year after you left, so he'd train Wolfram. You're bound to miss episodes of the hometown news if you stay in exile this long, Bert…"

Adelbert laughed out loud. "Pandering your firstborn? That's a new low even for you, Fred!" The Shibuyas smiled politely, hoping they hadn't understand this correctly.

"Manfred, just sign the damned thing," Ted coaxed, evil gleam in his eye.

"Don't do it, Manfred!" said Aldrich. "Cheri, please check his math carefully?"

"What is the '_damned thing_'?" inquired Gwendal darkly, of Manfred.

"What's on the supply train?" inquired Wolfram lightly, of Griesel.

"Most of the food, wine, and beer from your wedding. That's why I'm handling it, sir, with two junior sergeants along. Three regiments' worth of wine for a _month_. That's a _lot_ of wine." Griesel grinned broadly. "I hope we'll see you and Yuuri at the party? Von Dienst would love to see you, sir, and the men."

Yuuri twitched. "Ah… why… the food and wine… from our wedding?"

"And the flowers," said Ted, "but _Aldrich_ handed in his homework on time, _Manfred_. Speaking of which… where's Hube?"

"Right here," said Gegen Huber, having quietly joined them. "Griesel sent my food along first – it can't sit around in the sun all day. My '_homework_' is attached to Manfred's. Give us a break, Ted. Ah, Conrad, welcome back." He realized his boss was looking at him with a very pained expression. "Ah, the junior Aristocrats – Gratz, Weller, and Bielenfeld – were tasked with recouping soldier salaries from perishable wedding supplies. Milord."

Wolfram, arms crossed on his chest, and eyes about to cross as well, said, "Junior. Bielenfeld? _Chichiue_…"

"_I'll finish. The paperwork. Soon_," said Manfred, head bent to Cheri's. "Ah! In fact, now." He signed three pages and handed one to Griesel, who briskly bowed and left. He tried unsuccessfully to hand one off to Aldrich, who refused it, and ruefully folded that one up and put it in his pocket. He handed the remaining sheaf to Ted von Trondheim.

Ted read quickly, eyebrows raised. "Well done!" he murmured. "Ah – yes, well, Maou-heika, Lord Chancellor. Welcome home. I'll be ready for your briefing and handoff whenever you are."

"_Here. And NOW_. Would be good. If you could be so kind. Commander von Trondheim," suggested Yuuri, twitching.

"Yes, Maou-heika. There was a bit of a coup, in your absence. And a… counter-coup. Regiments from Bielenfeld, Krist, and Khrennikov were dispatched to the Mizrati frontier, von Dienst of Bielenfeld commanding overall –"

"It wasn't supposed to get that far," said Gwendal, twitching.

Aldrich shrugged. "They can deploy troops unilaterally. They only need to vote before they invade."

"_Invade?_" asked Yuuri, rather loudly.

"Yes, but… that went to a vote of the Eleven," continued Ted. "Which failed. So the troops were successfully ordered to stand down, in Mizrat Prospect. Um. Backing up a moment, during the Mizrati invasion vote, Lord Friedrich von Bielenfeld was forced to retire in favor of our current Manfred Lord Bielenfeld. However, complications ensued when Lords Krist and Khrennikov realized that all three domains had to pay their activated reserve regiments, full pay for at least a month, and tried to pin the bill for all this on Bielenfeld. Bielenfeld objected that it had actually voted _against_ the motion raised by… a prior Bielenfeld, and should not be expected to bear all the expenses."

"_Bielenfeld_ did, my ass," commented Brendan. "Aldrich, give me my proxy back _now_."

"Oh, cousin of little faith," replied Aldrich, handing over the proxy. "I didn't make Gratz owe anything."

Ted grinned. "I stand corrected, Lord Gratz. Yes, I believe it was Gratz' proxy who objected. However, Lord Aldrich is right. In the… _fullness_ of his proposals, Gratz ended up owing nothing."

"And Shin Makoku?" inquired its Chancellor Gwendal, fists clenched.

"Uh, yes, the Eleven voted to let the Shin Makoku federal treasury pay for it all. But, since Bielenfeld cancelled the wedding –"

"_What?!?_" screeched Wolfram.

"It's not legal for Lord Bielenfeld's heir to marry anyone but a full-blooded Mazoku, you know that," murmured Aldrich. "We may address… alterations in the succession… next year. It's not _legal_ to do so again this year. Cousin, I remind you that my father's sudden retirement prevented Shin Makoku's _invasion_ of an innocent ally. And delayed your wedding by a year. That's not long."

Wolfram stood down unhappily. He couldn't argue with that.

Ted pressed on. "Well, since the wedding was cancelled, and there were substantial perishable supplies on hand, we… paid for the soldiers' salaries by selling off the wedding supplies. The three junior Aristocrats were tasked with this – Gratz the flowers, Weller the food, and Bielenfeld the wine. And," he waved Manfred's paperwork, "we were just finishing up."

"And the treasury?" prodded Gwendal.

"Is… out the cost of a wedding, and no more," replied Ted. He handed over Hube and Manfred's sheaf of papers, plus another sheaf of his own and Aldrich's. Gwendal skimmed them quickly, started chuckling, and then laughed out loud.

"Aldrich… you _amaze_ me," said Gwendal.

Aldrich bowed with a green-eyed demon smile. "Any time."

"Anyway," wrapped up Ted. "Shin Makoku is fine. And, should you wish to attend, there's one hell of a party going on this month at the Mizrat Prospect garrison."

"And my wedding guests?" asked Yuuri.

"They went home," replied Ted. "Well, Lords Bielenfeld and Wincott are still here, of course, and a few proxies. Lord Wincott and I usually have tea in the afternoon."

"So the Lords did take over the country," said Gwendal.

"…Yes. Well, the previous Lord Bielenfeld did, briefly, and since then… Lord Wincott. Who is now senior of the Eleven. And very easy to get along with."

"Well done. _Very_ well done, I commend all of you gentlemen," said Gwendal. "Ted, if you don't mind, I just got married, so… I leave tea-time to you and Yuuri. My dear?" he offered an arm to Annissina, who was quite surprised. They left quickly, before Yuuri or Wolfram could whine any further about their wedding. A lot of other extraneous people took their cue to wander away as well.

Manfred didn't budge. "Adelbert? The baby?"

"Yuuri and I are going to adopt her, Chichiue –" started Wolfram.

"Stop," Manfred cut him off. "Adelbert? Bring me that child." Adelbert reluctantly did so. Yuuri remembered the first time Gwendal had mentioned Manfred and Adelbert, raised almost as twins – _Strong-minded men_. "She's beautiful," Manfred continued, holding her and playing peek-a-boo. "Why would you do that, Adelbert?"

"I can't stuff her in a pack-saddle to ride back to Dai Cimarron, Manfred." Adelbert had his arms crossed on his chest, stubborn.

"Then _come home_, already!" Manfred handed Frieda to Cheri, as the baby didn't like how mad the men were getting.

"To _what_? Be a cowboy in the back range of Gratz, dump her on a babysitter while I visit Brendan and Hahaue and the Bielenfelds for Winterfair, because half-Mazoku aren't _allowed_ in the ruling family?"

"Don't give me that crap, Adelbert. We left home when we were Efram's age. After your father died, Brendan did a great job running the place, and you were happy to leave him to it. _Gratz_ is Brendan's. _Shin Makoku_ is your home."

Brendan had his arms crossed on his chest, too, and disputed none of this.

"Shin Makoku exiled me – as a traitor. Shin Makoku hates humans, and I have a half-human child."

"Same here," interjected Gegen Huber. "I'm sorry to butt in, Adelbert, but I have to say it. Maou-heika – Yuuri – welcomed me back, with my Suberian wife and half-Mazoku daughter. He pardoned me for my part in the anti-human wars. He brought back many other Suberian women with half-Mazoku children, too. Now I'm working for our new Lord Weller, an Eleventh Aristocrat to represent humans and half-Mazoku. We're _changing_ Shin Makoku, Adelbert."

"My father Dan Hiri Weller started this work, under my mother as Maou, settling Lutenberg with half-Mazoku refugees from Dai Cimmarron," said Conrad. "I'm continuing it under Yuuri heika. Join us, Adelbert. With this new Eleventh domain, we have a blank slate, to create a new era in human-Mazoku relations. If you could find someone to care for the child for you while you're away, I'd love to have you do field work for us, I told you that. Maybe Wolfram and Yuuri would be willing to foster Frieda instead of adopting, or maybe you'd find someone else."

"We would," said Wolfram. "We'd foster her, _or_ adopt her. We don't need to cut you out, to take her in."

Surprised that Wolfram had said it first, Yuuri put his arm around him, smiling. "Definitely," he added.

"Did you say, _Frieda?_" Manfred asked, distracted.

"Yeah, Ethel sucked at names," explained Adelbert. "I told her if I had a son, I'd name him in your honor. Cheri says she got you and Friedrich mixed into '_Manfried_', then had a girl… Sorry, Manfred, but I… never would have named a _girl_ after you. I was thinking something more like '_Alfred_'."

"_Quite_ alright, Adelbert. Though… '_Bertram_' isn't bad. We haven't named my newborn yet. So stick around and we can watch them grow up together."

"The baby –?" Wolfram tried to cut in, but Manfred waved him to wait, eyes riveted on Adelbert, compelling an answer.

"Stay," said Conrad. "You'll make your own job, and Frieda will grow up among humans and half-Mazoku and Mazoku who love each other."

"Stay," said Yuuri. "We can make the shared parenting thing work. And Shin Makoku wants you back. You've got a pardon, if you'll take it. I owe you for Wolfram's life, my parents' lives – you've helped us so many times! Come home."

"Stay," said Manfred. "You're my best friend, and I miss you like hell. Come home, Adelbert. Raise this beautiful little girl."

"I… Alright. Wolfram and Yuuri, thank you, I'd be honored if you could foster my daughter and raise her with me. Conrad, if you think you can do with me."

Conrad nodded, with a quiet smile. "Let's you and Hube and I sit down and talk it through tomorrow, where to begin."

Adelbert took Frieda back from Cheri, and held her, smiling. "I guess… we're in this together now Frieda." The baby smiled, too, grabbed his nose, and giggled. At a whisper from Yuuri, Miko summoned Greta over, and introduced her to Frieda, so Yuuri and Wolfram could talk with Manfred without Greta drinking in every word.

"Chichiue…" said Wolfram, gulping. "Did you… decide not to give us the baby?"

"Well, I decided to _keep_ the baby – not quite the same thing – and raise him with Efram, but then the damnedest thing happened." He stopped in reflex, but no one interrupted him this time. "The baby doesn't have a Bielenfeld soul."

"He's… not your son?" asked Cheri.

"No, he's definitely my son. He looks just like Efram as a newborn, except the aqua eyes. And that's just a variation on green – a pretty one."

"So you can't keep him without a Bielenfeld soul?" asked Wolfram, perplexed. He wasn't aware of any rules regarding Bielenfeld souls. They just… did what they did. It wasn't a _law_ or anything.

"No, it's not that… It's… well, I _recognize_ this soul. The baby chose _you_. _Both_ of you. I'm… pretty sure of that."

-oOo-

_Thank you_ to those who have written reviews! Please write more? If only to say that you want me to write more?


	11. Family Men

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review. _

Chapter 11 : Family Men

While Cecilie and Miko ran interference for them, Yuuri and Wolfram snuck off with Manfred to meet their new son before taking back the reins of power. They knocked softly on Dierdra's door before entering, but went in without invitation. Yuuri was at a loss, so hung by the door, while Wolfram went straight to Dierdra, asleep in the bed. Manfred went first to Doria, one of the castle's kitchen women, sitting there with a basket. She and the basket were nearly out the door before Yuuri realized that was the baby she carried out with her.

Wolfram woke Dierdra gently, to ask how she was feeling. She looked completely wrung out – long spring-green wavy hair matted and darkened with sweat, dark rings under her amethyst-blue eyes, which kept falling closed. She told them they took the child with her blessing, signed the adoption papers Manfred had prepared, and fell asleep again in mid-sentence. Yuuri and Wolfram waited by the door for a few moments while Manfred made sure she was comfortable, then they left.

They walked back to Yuuri and Wolfram's room – Manfred explained Doria had taken the baby there to wait for them. The custom was for the adopting parents to spend some time with the mother, inquiring after the childbirth and the mother's plans, before getting her signature on the adoption papers, while the baby was whisked away by a third party. This Wolfram had tried to do, but Dierdra was just too exhausted. Her labor had lasted over thirty hours, ending around midnight last night.

"Wait – that means she went into labor the day before last?" Yuuri asked. "Around 5 o'clock perhaps, the day we sailed for the pirate islands? And ended around midnight…" If so, Dierdra went into labor about the time Yuuri went Maou in bed with Wolfram, and the baby was born the next time they… Yuuri and Wolfram exchanged a look.

"That's right," said Manfred. He was limping a lot more slowly than usual.

"Are you alright, Chichiue?" asked Wolfram. "You must be exhausted, too. Let me get you a wheelchair for the rest of the walk to our room."

"No, I can walk, I've been catching naps between this and that. Unless… you want me to just sign over the papers and let you and Yuuri meet the baby alone."

Yuuri might have been inclined to use the man's exhaustion as an excuse to do just that. But Wolfram took his father in a big embrace, then laid their foreheads together. "No, Chichiue. I want you to introduce us to our son. All three of ours. Don't think for one minute that I'm cutting you out of his life!"

So Manfred came with them. Doria bowed out quickly when they arrived, conveying her and Sanguria and Lazania's best wishes, and offering their services as nanny anytime. The bedroom was already equipped with changing table and diapering supplies. The basket sat on a low rolling table with slightly bowl-shaped top, by the window table and chairs. The table bore milk bottle and hot water to warm it lying ready.

Yuuri and Wolfram made straight for the basket, to gaze at the tiny being within. Mazoku believed in small, womb-like baskets for newborns. He was tucked in with a soft-knitted Bielenfeld blue baby blanket, nestled into an underfilled feather pillow that lined the basket, making a warm little cocoon for him.

Wolfram's face was pure rapture looking at the sleeping newborn, touching the basket in wonder, though not yet the sleeping contents – a well-scrunched cone-headed tired little newborn, as worn out as Dierdra from the long labor of his birth. But he was perfect, with ultra fine hair the greenish cast color of yellow cornsilk. Wolfram laughed softly and bent down a little, studying the basket more closely. Yuuri was a bit surprised at the basket – a rather crude wicker affair.

"Recognize it?" murmured Manfred, coming up behind Wolfram. He enveloped his son in a hug from behind as Wolfram nodded, smiling and tears brimming, and leaned back against his father.

"Surely it's not the same one? That I wove for Efram?"

"No… But he wanted to copy the one you made for him as carefully as he could. Yuuri, it's traditional in Bielenfeld for a father to weave a basket for his first child, and guide their hands, each to weave a basket for the next child. And spend the time talking and thinking about how they each plan to help raise the baby. I told Gwendal and Conrad about it, and they loved the idea. So Conrad helped me weave Wolfram's. Gwendal knitted this blanket for him. I helped Wolfram weave the basket for Efram, and helped Efram weave this one."

Yuuri was delighted by the custom, his smile lighting up even further. "Is that what those baskets are! I noticed them in people's homes when I visited Bielenfeld, displayed on the walls. In fact… those three hanging in your dining room?" Yuuri decided to inquire about the third basket with Wolfram later – now didn't seem the time.

Manfred nodded. "The father keeps them – a reminder of the commitments he made before the baby was born. _Wolfram. _Are you going to pick up this baby or not?"

Wolfram didn't need more coaxing. He unwrapped Gwendal's blanket, revealing the perfectly formed diapered baby beneath, who groggily started to notice the temperature change. Then he picked him up and cradled him in his arms. The baby arched his back a bit, yawned, and started rummaging for a breast in Wolfram's cravat. "Oh, Yuuri… come here!"

Yuuri had been standing transfixed watching this. He gulped and came closer, touching a tentative finger to a tiny foot, which curled around it. The miniature toes and fingers were just mesmerizing. As he touched the tiny nose, the baby's eyes opened into little crescents, like bottom quarter moons, and his eyes showed. They were definitely aqua-green, the color deep and beautiful. Yuuri took one look into those eyes, and gasped.

Manfred, watching carefully, nodded. Yuuri had clearly seen the same thing he had. The baby started to get more adamant about getting fed, and Wolfram warmed the bottle to feed him.

"Yuuri, here are adoption papers," Manfred said, leaving them on the table. "I think you saw, what I saw? That the baby's a perfect match for being Wolfram's son, but also yours?"

"It's _Shinou_," said Yuuri in wonder.

"_Ouch!_" said Wolfram. "You scorched me! You have powerful maryoku for such a tiny person! Chichiue, did Efram and I do that as newborns?"

"Ah, his maryoku may be a bit stronger..." He shot Yuuri a cock-eyed glance to suggest the timing on that scorching wasn't accidental. Mazoku strongly disapproved of discussing the past lives of others without compelling reason. If you recognized a prior acquaintance for yourself, that was between you and him. Telling others wasn't appropriate – _especially_ not Wolfram. Shinou's soul deserved a fresh start in his new life, same as anyone else, with Wolfram to cuddle him as his very own cherished baby, not a _god_.

"Well," said Wolfram, talking to the newborn as they curled into the armchair with the bottle, "we're going to have to teach Yuuri otousan a few majutsu defense spells, aren't we? Oh, Yuuri, what are we going to name him?"

Yuuri pushed his way into the armchair, too, holding Wolfram holding the baby, and they fed him together.

_They look so beautiful together, all three of them_, Manfred admitted to himself. Wolfram's face was fixed in the real bishounen smile of which his stage version was a pale imitation, absolutely enthralled with the baby sucking at the bottle, clutched every so tenderly to his chest, his shining yellow-blond head tucked under Yuuri's cheek. Yuuri, grinning lovestruck, shining black hair mingling with Wolfram's blond, held Wolfram close with one arm, while he continued touching his tiny son with his other hand, marveling at the texture of the skin, the perfectly formed fingernails, the vivid color of his hair and eyes.

Manfred smiled sadly and drifted out the door unnoticed.

-oOo-

_Bertram_, they decided, in Manfred's honor, since it had been his suggestion out in the courtyard, and went with _Frieda_. Then they laughed in surprise to realize Manfred had long since left.

"Maybe I should go, too," said Yuuri sadly, studying a tiny ear. "Reclaim my kingdom from Lord Wincott and all that."

"Yuuri…" said Wolfram, gazing up into his eyes. "If there's a crisis, they'll come get us. If there isn't… Bertram and Frieda are more important today, aren't they? Instead, would you please go help Greta weave a basket for Bertram? It would mean a lot to me. Once you get started, I think you'll find it means a lot to you, too. Efram can teach you how."

"Ah… if it means that much you, sure. Though, Bertram already has a basket."

Wolfram laughed. "Bertram would be just as happy in a punch bowl. The basket is for the father who weaves it, and the sibling who helps him. It's making it that matters, Yuuri, not the basket itself. This basket goes home with Chichiue, to hang on his wall with the others. It was woven of his promises, not yours."

Thus Yuuri good-naturedly permitted Wolfram to kick him out of their room. He found and recruited Efram and Greta. Luckily Adelbert, son of a von Bielenfeld mother, had already done the legwork to acquire a small mountain of basketry supplies, in order to '_straighten his head out about Frieda_'. He and Frieda were on the lawn by Cheri's special flower garden, the baby playing on a shady blanket, while Adelbert soaked assorted colors of reed and grass rope in a cauldron of water.

Yuuri asked whether he should also weave a basket for Frieda, but Adelbert gently said no thank you – as a foster father, it would be an insult to the real father, Adelbert. The giant blond was companionable whenever Yuuri spoke to him, and seemed in no hurry to get the job done, but whenever conversation lapsed, he went back to sketching basket concepts or playing with Frieda.

"This is a meditation, Yuuri," said Efram quietly. "It's really about straightening your head out, like he said. Deciding who you're going to be, what you're going to do, in relation to Bertram and helping Wolfram raise him, your dreams for him, and like that. Cousin Adelbert isn't just weaving a basket – he's reinventing his life." Efram turned to Greta, and spoke cheerfully. "So what kind of basket we should weave, Greta?"

"I never wove a basket before," she answered. Yuuri admitted he hadn't either.

Adelbert murmured, "There's a lot to raising a child that I've never done before." Mesmerized by that insight, he lay down beside Frieda for a bit, staring into a tree.

And Yuuri realized that was part of the point – to do something he wasn't good at, but to be willing to learn and do it as well as he could. Or… maybe there weren't any lessons in this exercise except the ones he made up while he wove the basket. "Ah… Greta, let's make a basket like the one Chichiue Wolfram wove for Efram. I bet that would mean a lot to him. Wolfram and I have never raised a baby before either, and you've never raised a little brother. Let's go with the pattern he wove, to encourage him."

Greta agreed completely. Efram was the one with the actual know-how, but Yuuri and Greta took turns doing the weaving. As Yuuri concentrated on the task, a lot of promises passed through his mind. How he wanted to support Wolfram in raising all these children. How he'd deal with jealousy and squabbles between them. How a foster child differed from the adopted children. In what ways Bertram was Shinou, and what ways he wasn't. How he himself wasn't Susanna Julia. What it meant to be this child's father. What kind of man he'd like to help Bertram become – though Yuuri would likely be gone by then. He thought a lot on that. His dreams for Bertram. Scratch that - Bertram's dreams were his own to discover – rather, how Yuuri could help him find them, and be a positive memory for Bertram even after he was gone. His fervent wish that they were indeed _Bertram_'s dreams, not Shinou's - that Shinou was at last free of his onerous obligations from the past.

When his ideas touched on his relationship with Greta, he talked them over with her, and about how these new children might change her relationship with her fathers. His face hurt from smiling as much as he had this afternoon, as Greta shared her big dreams for her tiny brother and foster sister. Adelbert listened in on those, rapt as well. Efram wryly bit his tongue rather than suggest more realistic prospects for what a nuisance little brothers and sisters could be – it wasn't the time for that.

Other people wandered through, most not staying long – the baby basket-weaving tradition was well known throughout Shin Makoku, though not practiced much any more in most parts. Conrad passed through, clearly moved by memories, giving encouragement to both basket projects. Yuuri's father Shouma sat with them for a while, as clueless as Yuuri when it came to basket-weaving, but adding a few insights he'd had about fathering along the way. Brendan visited a while with Adelbert. Manfred came and gave Efram a hug, complimented Yuuri and Greta on their workmanship, then sat with Adelbert, too.

When Manfred rose to leave, Adelbert roused from a reverie to say, "Manfred… sorry I'm not much use today. You really ought to see Aldrich, though. Promise me?" Manfred waggled a hand '_we'll see_' and limped away. Adelbert stared after him in concern. Shouma noticed and left as well, catching up to Manfred, taking the opportunity to get to know him a little better. Yuuri wasn't worried about it – his international executive chameleon of a father would surely be affable and soothing. He realized he hadn't thought much about that - how his father had raised him, what kind of example he'd been.

This custom clearly had very little to do with basket production.

-oOo-

"Ta-da!" said Greta, presenting the basket to Wolfram. He admired it fulsomely before putting it on the windowsill to finish drying. He taught Greta how to hold Bertram, and she chattered about what she'd decided while weaving.

"And Adelbert's still down there?" Wolfram asked thoughtfully. "Well, Greta, are you up for weaving another? Yuuri, shall I have your dinner sent up? This will take us a while."

"Ah… what?"

Wolfram smiled and kissed him. "I'm Bertram's father, too, remember? I haven't woven my basket yet." He kissed Bertram, and left quickly with Greta. Yuuri admitted that made sense – they had agreed to a foster baby today as well, and Wolfram wanted to weave a basket alongside her father Adelbert.

And Yuuri was left alone, holding a newborn. After being terrified for a few minutes, it dawned on Yuuri that Bertram was undemanding, if riveting, company. He'd heard somewhere about babies thriving on skin-to-skin contact. So he stripped his jacket and shirts off in the warm summer evening, and snuggled Bertram to his bare chest, nestled so the baby could hear his heartbeat. Bertram seemed to love it. Wolfram had apparently entertained himself part of the time by healing him – his head was no longer cone-shaped.

"You're going to be a real beauty, Bertram, just like your Chichiue."

Dinner came and went with the new grandmothers Miko and Cheri. Miko gave him a hard time about lying around with no shirt on, but he took it off again to snuggle Bertram as soon as she left. Eventually Wolfram came back with an elegant basket. Yuuri praised their workmanship. The four of them clambered onto the bed for a bedtime story – the fosterlings were with their true fathers tonight. Greta changed Bertram's diaper, and bounced off after kisses all around.

"Alone, at last…" Wolfram said, stripping off the top half of his uniform. "Bertram, you need to control your sexy father. It was very hard to concentrate reading a story, watching you cuddled to his bare breast like that." Wolfram dove into the bed and joined Bertram, with his head on Yuuri's other breast. He kissed both their beautiful naked breasts, then looked up to invite a big kiss from Yuuri on the mouth. "Mmm. I like this idea, skin to skin cuddling with the baby. I must admit, you have very good ideas. I'm so relieved that Maou-on-climax thing was Bertram. It was, wasn't it?"

"Yeah…. But 30 hours labor – that's just terrible. Bertram, tell your Chichiue. We clearly need to make love more often than that. So off to your basket…"

"No way! I haven't cuddled him to _my_ bare breast yet," Wolfram objected.

Yuuri found this argument altogether compelling. He traded places with Wolfram immediately. Although, it was very hard to keep his hands, and lips, from exploring all over both of his favorite blond demons this way. Wolfram murmured objections that sounded a great deal more like encouragement, until he admitted he was ready for Bertram to get nestled back into his basket, after all.

-oOo-

Manfred tried to ask Cheri for a rain check on their tryst that night, but found only the Shibuyas working on the new nursery next to Yuuri and Wolfram's room. They said Cheri had run off to the attics – or was it the basements? – to sift through her stash of baby memorabilia. Unwilling – unable, really – to go hunting for her in either place, he just gave in to the day's misery and limped painfully to his room. Maybe if he fell asleep before she found him, she'd just leave him be.

Climbing into bed in physical agony, having held himself together emotionally by sheer force of will through the day, he had to admit Adelbert was right. He should have gone to see Aldrich. Aldrich was the second best healer in the castle after Manfred, body and soul, as well as his surrogate big brother. Instead he'd stubbornly stuck to doing things that made him feel worse. But he couldn't face getting out of that bed again and limping off to look for Aldrich now. _Healer, heal thyself,_ he thought sourly, knowing full well that he wasn't up to it.

He propped himself up on the pillows, and pulled his plain white sleeping gown up around his chest, for access to his painful hips and legs. He didn't usually need focus practice before even the most difficult healing – but lack of sleep and clamoring misery made healing focus almost unattainable. He brought out his maryoku signature – Cheri's yacht, in full loving detail, blue fire dancing in the rigging on orange sail – and practiced.

Cheri knocked briefly and slipped into the room, since she was expected and didn't want to draw attention in the hall. Manfred almost immediately managed to dash the signature and pull a blanket over himself. But she saw it all. She pursed her lips and drew a chair to his bedside, while Manfred buried his face in his hands.

"I tried to find you to take a raincheck on this evening –" Manfred attempted.

"_Don't_. Oh, Manfred, please don't start. You're in pain – a _lot_ of pain. Heal it. Let me sit by you and hold your hand, or just be here for you while you do it. And then we'll talk. Don't push me away…"

Manfred dropped his hands and lay back on his pillows, but looked away from her, his beautiful blond-swept face a mask of misery. "I _can't_, Cecilie. Please go…"

"_No!_" she screamed, and slammed a lamp off the nightstand. "_Why_ must you always _do_ this?"

"Mind if I come in?" said Aldrich, already closing the door behind him. "Cecilie. Manfred. Adelbert said you should have been looking for me. I can see why. Cecilie, perhaps you could excuse us…?"

"I am _not_ leaving!"

Aldrich nodded. "I see. Well, could you at least give me your seat so that I can see to Manfred for a moment?" Cheri grudgingly stepped away from the chair, to stand at Aldrich's elbow, arms crossed, jaw set. Aldrich sighed and ran a monitoring hand over Manfred's body from head to toe, then back to hover over his head, frowning. He placed his hand along the side of Manfred's face and asked him to take a couple deep breaths, watching carefully. "Well, since you're here, Cecilie, perhaps you could help. Could you please place your hand just like mine on the other side?" Aldrich only had the one hand, so couldn't hold both sides. Cecilie eagerly stepped forward to help.

"Aldrich, what the hell are you doing…" complained Manfred, glaring at him.

"Everyone has their own style. If you're willing to feel better, then cooperate. I'd like you to take ten deep, calm breaths. If you get frazzled, that's fine, just start over counting from one. Let everything else go for now. Do this one thing."

Manfred's head yammered with analyzing Aldrich's technique, his emotions reeling at Cheri's touch, and at first he couldn't either to shut up. But Cheri's hand and Aldrich's – two of the dearest people to him in the world – felt really good cradling his face. It took several false starts, but he finally managed to relax into the comfort of their hands and just breathe.

As Manfred's face relaxed out of its hard stubborn set, Cecilie's heart ached. His beautiful face was still rigidly white about the lips from pain, eyes dark-ringed from fatigue, expression melted from hard stoicism, into misery.

"Good," said Aldrich. "Now I'm going to see to the legs. Cecilie, please place your other hand where mine was – good – and Manfred, keep breathing deeply." He pulled the blanket away and Manfred stiffened. "Just count breaths, Manfred. Cecilie's only looking at your face." Aldrich began on the side of Manfred's good leg, placing his palm directly on the skin of his hip, which ached from over-compensating for his bad leg. The healing fire tendrils branched out from there, lapping around his groin and other hip, but mostly down the good thigh. Aldrich moved his hand and repeated this at knee and on the sole of his foot. Manfred gave a long sigh of relief.

Then Aldrich worked his way up the bad leg, stopping more places. Manfred's face dripped with sweat, and a whimper escaped at times. Then Aldrich pushed his hand under to the small of Manfred's back, and worked there for a minute. By the time he was done, Manfred was breathing much easier, and Cheri saw that the pain lines in his face had softened. That still left a heartbreaking amount of fatigue and misery.

Aldrich sat back and considered, letting Cecilie just hold Manfred's face for a few minutes in silence. "Manfred… I'm going to ask you a question. Now hear me out before you answer, because I know you. The question doesn't mean what you think it does. I'm not asking '_do you think Cecilie should stay_', nor '_should you want her to stay_', nor '_should she want to stay_', nor '_do you think you will fight_', nor any other of the thousand variations you come up with when you're feeling like this. Cutting all that out of the equation, if it were possible for a good outcome – now here's the question – _do you, want, Cecilie to stay?_ Or do you want her to leave?"

"Stay," he whispered eventually, eyes closed.

"OK. Just try to relax for a bit. Cecilie, over this way – we need to talk."

In the corner of the room, he spoke to her quietly, though not so quietly that Manfred couldn't hear – this wasn't an attempt to talk behind his back. "Cecilie… when you first sent Manfred packing, back to Bielenfeld, you wrote me a letter. You said you'd give anything to know how to handle him when he got this way. That there had to be something you could do, something better than just kicking him out. I didn't answer – I honestly thought it would be better for you to let go. But it's been 80 years and the two of you… Anyway, do you still want to know? Or… do you want to leave?"

Cheri looked at him levelly, absolutely sure. "I still want to know."

"Next question. What I need to know from you is, can you _promise_ me, that you will say absolutely nothing? I'm not talking about just a few minutes – I mean for the rest of the night, _you cannot talk to him_. Not even, '_Oh, Manfred_," not even '_I love you_' – not a word. _At all_. If you can't do that… it really would be better for you to leave now and try another day."

"I'm not leaving. I won't speak."

"OK. Next item. What I'm about to do is going to make Manfred cry. What I want you to do, is hold him while he cries, until he falls asleep. And not say _anything_. If you manage this, you still have two options open. One, you leave in the middle of the night, and have the option of starting this evening over some other time, or not. Two, you stay until he wakes up, and then you talk. If you take option two… then I don't think Manfred will get over you for as long as he lives. But… I'm not sure he ever would anyway."

"I'll stay til morning."

Aldrich shook his head. "No. You'll leave _that_ option open. But if you're staying now, then… no-talking time starts now. I'd like you to put your hands on his face again the way you did before, until he starts crying. Then you hold him while he cries. That's it."

Cheri nodded emphatically. She went to Manfred's side and held his face again. That he was willing to cooperate with all this was certain proof that he hurt _bad_ inside, she was sure of that.

"OK, Manfred," said Aldrich. "I want… a neutral shopping list. Just dump a list of things that have happened the past few days, no order, no evaluation, you just _say it,_ and I say, '_next_'. I want you to list things that hit you emotionally – positive, negative, mixed, anything. Just – say some big _thing_, I say '_next_', and you say another big thing. Got it? OK. Say a big thing."

"Became Lord Bielenfeld." _Next. _"Wolfram's wedding." _Next._ "Efram's mother kicked him out." _Next_. "Annette committed suicide." _Next_. "My mother called me a screw-up – oy, that's childish of me -"

"No commentary, Manfred. Just a list, big or small, good or bad. _Next_."

"Wolfram gave Efram third degree burns." _Next_. "Yuuri didn't want a Mazoku baby." _Next_. "Efram's fascinated by gay sex." _Next._ "I decided to keep the baby." _Next_. "Dierdra was in labor 30 hours, and the baby was born." _Next_. "Efram wants to stay here instead of live with me." _Next_. "The baby…chose Yuuri…" _Next_. "I gave up my s…" Manfred couldn't say it.

Manfred wasn't crying yet, but tears were pouring down Cheri's face. Who had he shared all this with? No one. Who had he let in? No one. Not only didn't he let anyone help him – Cheri _knew_ most of this, but he was such a consummate actor, she didn't add it up and realize he was reeling. Maybe he didn't either. He carried it off with dark humor and just… kept going, until when she'd try to find out what was wrong… he fractured. _Manfred, damn you, why do you do this, love?_ She held his face tenderly, and said not a word. Eighty years she'd tried to figure this out – this time, she was determined to succeed. _Absolutely._

"You gave up your son for adoption. _Next_."

"My mother dis…" Manfred swallowed, hard. He'd passed it off as a joke twenty times already since it happened yesterday.

"Phoebe disowned you. _Next_."

"Adelbert has a baby." _Next_. "Adelbert's staying." _Next_. "Cheri… was…"

"Cheri was kidnapped. _Next_."

"Efram ran away." _Next_. "I couldn't… I couldn't go… I couldn't help…"

"You couldn't go on the rescue mission to save Cheri?" Aldrich asked.

At that, Manfred finally broke down sobbing, and let Cheri hug him tight to her bosom. She stroked his beautiful blond hair, so like hers and Wolfram's. She clasped his back, well toned from 50 push-ups a day, without fail. She bit her lip – oh, it was hard to say nothing!

Aldrich murmured in her ear, "Absolutely not a word until he's had at least four hours of sleep, no matter what he says. If you break this rule…" He sighed. "I'm next door, toward the gallery. Wake me, without fail, or he might harm himself badly. I'll come put him back together again… somehow." And with that, Aldrich brushed a gentle finger down Manfred's tear-drenched cheek, and left.

_I won't. I won't let go, and I won't speak_, thought Cheri adamantly, sobbing as hard as Manfred. _I don't understand, love. I don't understand why I can't speak when you need to talk so desperately. But I'll try anything. I can't bear watching you do this to yourself. I never could. But after you lost the leg and your career… And Conrad and Wolfram got so frightened when we fought… But I've never forgiven myself for sending you away, when you needed me so much. But I couldn't figure out how to help._

-oOo-

_Thank you_ to those who have written reviews! Please write more? If only to say that you want me to write more?


	12. Marriage Before Wedding

Kyou Kara Maou : The Pirate Wedding

Summary: Wolfram and Yuuri's second wedding attempt is waylaid by pirates. But – might they still get a _child_ as a wedding gift? Sequel to any of my KKM fanfics so far.

Disclaimer: I have no rights to Kyou Kara Maou, of course.

_Please review. _

_Update: fixed a couple unclear wordings (like, who was talking), fidgeted._

Chapter 12 : Marriage Before Wedding

Manfred woke ten hours later, not opening his eyes at first. Cheri was still there, still holding him, though she'd changed from her evening dress into one of his shirts. He'd heard every word Aldrich told her last night. But she'd stayed anyway – why? Probably just stubborn. That thought made the situation a little more comfortable, so he opened his eyes and turned, to see her glowing green ones trained on him, tousled blonde hair falling loosely around their shared pillow.

Cheri smiled, and gave him a leisurely good morning kiss, arms around his neck, scooting her body to lie along his. She rested her forehead on his to say her first words, carefully considered for such simple fare. "Good morning. How do you feel?"

"Much better… embarrassed. A bit stiff."

"Really?" Cheri felt for herself with a demonic little green gleam in her eye.

Manfred chuckled. "I didn't mean that way. Though… _also_ that way…"

"Oh, good!" she said, immediately sitting up and pulling his sleepshirt off him. "I want to put my hand on you while you heal yourself. I love doing that! I want to see that maryoku signature again, too. I'd never seen your yacht signature before – it was Gratzberg Peak when you lived here with us. Don't you dare get shy, Manfred. And don't complain that it turns you on, because I'm _counting_ on it. So, do I hold the handle here?" She grinned evilly.

"Such a sudden_ torrent _of words, woman… _No_… hand on belly, _there_. And… signature focus yes, focus is going to be hard… Although, this isn't fair. You've got me naked and you're still wearing my shirt…"

Cheri swooshed off his large borrowed shirt in one smooth motion. "All better!" After a moment of preening to his appreciation, she prodded, "_Focus_, Manfred. _Focus_. Show me my yacht in orange and blue. And after you're done healing you a bit, I want some of those wriggly fire tendrils on me. I_ love_ the way those feel, lapping around…"

He focused. He healed himself. He set fire healing tendrils playing all over her, and they spent a long time making love. He snuggled to her bosom afterward, content.

"Manfred? Can we talk yet?" She took his murmur and rubbing cheek on her breast as a '_yes_'. "I can see that what Aldrich suggested, worked. But I don't understand. You're one of the most intellectual men I know. So I've always tried to talk things out with you. Why was that wrong?"

Manfred sighed. "I'm… not an intellectual man at all. Or rather… I am, but it's because I _hide_ there. I'm very physical, very emotional, pure fire healer. But… when my emotions hurt too much, I hide in the intellectual. The physical works better…"

As he toyed with her belly, she could feel the truth of that. Physically, they connected easily, and always had. Verbal sparring… easily slipped into battle royale. _Huh. _"You used to run," Cheri remembered suddenly. "Before your leg. You always ran a few miles in the morning. But if you came home upset about something, you'd run another few miles in the evening."

"Mmm, runner's high and swimmer's high work great. There are other physical releases…" He kissed the breast he was presently using as a pillow. "But if you try to talk to my head when I'm hiding in there because I can't face my feelings… things can go downhill real quick. Remember how Aldrich belabored, '_now Manfred, let's talk about what the word _want _means_'? Aldrich knows me awfully well. But even he can't guess, what I think people are saying when I'm like that – he just knows that it's _dead_ negative. I can't hear anything positive. I hear criticism no matter what someone's really saying, so it's hopeless to talk to me. The best way to reach me when I get that way, is to connect physically first, then emotionally, and intellectually last, if at all… Though I can't imagine why anyone would bother."

Manfred seemed unperturbed by that thought. That no one would care whether he felt well or badly, seemed to him the natural order of things. Cheri found that unutterably sad. And she knew damned well who it came from. "It figures Phoebe would give you the ultimate punishment for being elevated to Lord Bielenfeld. She delighted in your failures, relished kicking you when you were down. But nothing made her more _furious_ than when you succeeded. I'm sure it hurt horribly, Manfred – no one deserves to be rejected by his mother! – but being disowned by _her_ is almost a compliment."

Manfred sighed. "What's the point, Cheri? She's a miserable woman. She wanted a big affable dumb lug like Adeldan von Gratz, a _'real man'_, and was ordered to marry her own great-nephew instead, yet another '_runt-like hypersensitive intellectual_', and a gay one at that."

Cheri winced. "Wolfred was gay?"

"Quite. She bullied him while they were growing up together, and they didn't like each other any better married. He was heir to Bielenfeld, so he begat a son because he had to. But he stayed away in the military every minute he could. She had petite pretty little me, the spitting image of a husband who had no use for her, while Sophie had big burly handsome Adelbert, the son she would have loved to have. I used to break my heart and body, trying to be Adelbert for her. But he's a bear, and I'm… not all that tough. Pretty tiny and fragile, actually."

Cheri smirked. "Are you trying to get my sympathy for your looks?"

Manfred smiled wryly. "Well, yes, humility aside, I _do_ get rather good mileage out of my looks. Women don't seem to mind my being short."

Cheri snorted, then fell back to thinking about Phoebe. "That's so totally opposite of the way she portrays Wolfred…"

"Yeah, his life suffered some editorial revision after death… Or so I'm told. I barely knew him.

"But it's not all bad, being disowned. It was almost funny to watch, actually… in a hideous sort of way… Aldrich and I went to make peace with Friedrich. The _hag_ was there, and got to tormenting me, and Aldrich and Friedrich got so pissed at her, they egged her on until she disowned me. Then they turned the tables and said she'd just disinherited herself – because I was still Lord Bielenfeld, heir of Lord Wolfred von Bielenfeld. So if she wasn't my mother, _she_ was the one who forfeited his inheritance, not me. Friedrich demanded I strip her of everything, and forbid her to ever darken his doorstep again."

"_Friedrich_ did? He stood up for you?"

"Sure. He's always been angry at how she treats me. He adored my father. And _I _didn't do anything to Friedrich – Aldrich's the one who ousted him. But even _they_ made up with each other, by jointly screwing over my mother – they do so love these games, a real bonding moment... Anyway, it's nice to have my father's money, I guess. I was thinking of splurging a little. Cheri… are hydrofoils fun to sail? Just a little one, about the same cabin space as the yacht, not a lumbering tank on skids like Gwendal's. Would that be… dull?"

_That would ride with a level deck_, Cheri thought. _At worst, he could use a wheelchair and still get around fine._ "They're wonderful! A hydrofoil like that might even be faster than my yacht – much lighter without that massive keel. Not the adrenaline rush of the deck canted twenty degrees in a gale. But we're grandparents now, and that adrenaline rush never did go so well with babies. I think it's a great idea, Manfred! I so wished you were there at Gwendal's wedding! I kept thinking what a great party boat you'd built for me… Then I got stuck on deck with Frieda while everyone else jumped overboard. Do you have any ideas on taking the little ones swimming off the boat?"

"Oh, sure. A fine net, shallow-strung inside the pontoon on the shady side of the hydrofoil, would work. You'd attach floats to the babies, too, of course. Or better yet, use a dark canvas pool – then you can let it warm in the sun awhile before adding babies." He grabbed pencil and paper, perennially by his bedside, and sketched it out, in a fine drafting hand, lengths neatly indicated. "And a kiddie water slide… Hm, need to think about the big people water slide design. Maybe Annissina could help with that."

Cheri lay on her side and watched the man, happily designing a family party boat, her smile growing broader and broader.

"Um, what?" said Manfred, blushing slightly as he became aware of her rapt gaze.

"I love you, Manfred Lord Bielenfeld. There's no one left to forbid us to marry. You're not even too young for me anymore – you're old enough that it doesn't matter. Marry me, Manfred."

A number of emotions chased themselves across his face, happiness among them, doubt also strong in the mix. "…Why, Cheri?"

"I love you. I always have. You're a fun playmate, Manfred, and a phenomenal father. You had so little time with Wolfram… yet he got so much from you. _We_ had so little time together. I never wanted to let you go… Oh, Manfred, I am _so_ sorry…"

"Don't. You were right. And yes. Yes, I still want to marry you. I always have. But… I really scared myself last night. Cheri, please believe me… It hasn't been bad like that, not for decades. There was just… too much, all at once. But, when I get back _hooume,_" he pronounced it as a gong of doom – he'd bolted from Castle Bielenfeld at Efram's age, after all, "I'll ask Friedrich to teach me to handle this better… I'm sorry. I've been wanting to spend some time studying healing under Friedrich, anyway. His experience is so vast, and my learning curve's kinda flattening out at the Institute." Of course it was – young though he was, he was already the leading healer there.

"Do that, love. But I'm not afraid of you. If all I have to do is shut up and hold you until you can handle your own emotions – that's _easy._"

Manfred chuckled darkly. "Conrad and Gwendal will _hate_ this."

"Wolfram and Yuuri and Efram will love it. And so will our grandchildren." She grinned a little green-eyed demon grin.

"Deal, my love. My only love." _His_ smile was the most genuinely happy smile she'd seen on him since Wolfram was a toddler.

-oOo-

Yuuri was late to his own parents' farewell party. He'd started the morning by taking back the reins of power from kindly Lord Wincott. Wolfram and Bertram came along for that – Yuuri wasn't dealing with the Lords this week without Wolfram by his side. But after that, he urgently needed to have a soothing sit-down with Ambassador Belarus of Mizrat, while Wolfram went back to family matters.

He sidled up to Wolfram, standing in the middle of the ballroom with Efram and Bertram. Yuuri nervously eyed a group over by the windows. Adelbert and Brendan von Gratz, Ted von Trondheim, Manfred and Aldrich von Bielenfeld, Gwendal von Walde, and Conrad von Weller, occassionally laughing and pounding each other on the back. "You know, a week ago, I would have seen that and thought, '_glad the guys are having fun_'… _Now_ I see half the votes of the Eleven over there..." he said in concern. "Ah, Efram… any idea what that's about?"

Efram looked at him appraisingly. "Got money?"

Yuuri gave him two of the silver coins that seemed to be the standard pay. Wolfram folded his arms and glowered at both of them.

Efram took the money. "They're figuring out where they'll see each other next, for Winterfair. Blood Pledge Castle was winning, last I heard." He flashed his pixie smile.

"You were _suckered_, Yuuri," Wolfram opined. "If he'd known anything worth knowing, he wouldn't have told you, no matter what you paid. If he did, I'd have thrashed him. Don't ask the children to spy for you, please. I won't allow it."

"Alright, I got it…" Yuuri sighed. "So, I've grown suspicious of our own family. That's terrible…"

"If you're expecting me to mourn your lost innocence, forget it," said Wolfram. "Working for an ignorant ruler is appalling. And that _is_ half the power of the nation over there. I applaud your good sense in being nervous. Especially around Aldrich."

"But, Aldrich's our ally!" Yuuri protested. "He saved us from invading Mizrat!"

"_Sure!"_ said Efram, pixie smile screwed up to maximum.

"Well, yes," said Wolfram. "But, not because he cared about _Mizrat._ Yuuri, we need to sit down and have a nice long chat about my cousin Aldrich." The last of this was whispered, as the demon himself was walking towards them, the power guys meeting having broken up.

"He's beautiful!" said Aldrich, peering into Bertram's basket. Bertram was wearing his '_dress-up basket_' today, the one Wolfram wove to support Maou Yuuri as a father. Aldrich ruffled Efram's hair. "Gotta love those whacky Krist hair colors. Nice new suits, young cousins. But Wolfram, strictly speaking, unless it's a formal state occasion, your military uniform takes precedence over the flashy heir-wear."

Manfred had Wolfram's tailor make new elevated-rank suits for himself and his sons, and they were all wearing them today. Aldrich spoke from experience, having worn either commander or heir's Bielenfeld blue uniform _every day_ for the past 140 or so years. He was reveling in the opportunity to wear _anything but blue_ – today he'd picked his mother's von Trondheim brown and scarlet. Aldrich didn't comment on Efram _Zarelle_'s flashy new _von Bielenfeld_ outfit.

"So, Efram," continued Aldrich, "now that you've had a taste of action, are you going to join the military? Lots of room for promotion – Bielenfeld has only two commanders left."

"One," corrected Manfred, joining them. "Aldrich, Wolfram is dressed correctly. He resigned his commission."

Wolfram swallowed, still a bit ashamed in front of the _real_ Lord Bielenfeld-to-be. Yuuri put an arm around him. "Wolfram's decided to concentrate on raising our children and being my political advisor." Wolfram shot him a grateful glance.

But Aldrich broke into an enormous grin. "_Congratulations_, Wolfram! You made it out alive and in one piece! It's been a long time since a von Bielenfeld came out of the deal so well, eh, Manfred?"

Wolfram had to hand it to Aldrich – he was _good_ at wrapping people around his little finger. "Thank you, Aldrich. May it be a new trend."

"I'm trying my best to put _all_ the Shin Makoku military commanders out of business," said Yuuri. Wolfram twitched just enough to remind him, _That's the sort of comment Wolfram advises me to stop making. Oh, yeah. Bielenfeld and Gratz, the two most militant domains of Shin Makoku. A ruler not appreciating the military's sacrifices… No, that wouldn't go over well…_

"_Actually_," Manfred forcibly changed the subject, "Efram is also correctly dressed." This was news to Efram, who looked up in mistrust. "I've secured your mother's blessing, Efram. If you're willing, I declare you Efram von Bielenfeld."

"_Really?"_ the boy breathed, his face lighting up.

"_Really!_" said Manfred, hugging him close. "Aldrich, you did suggest I could abuse my powers as Lord Bielenfeld half a dozen times this year…"

"Of which you still have a half dozen to go – in my opinion, your family is your affair. Welcome to the aristocracy, Efram." Aldrich tousled his hair again. "And congratulations, Manfred, now all your sons are von Bielenfelds. Ah, look! Cecilie looks ravishing today." And Cecilie came up to join them just as Gwendal and Conrad drifted over.

"Cecilie," Manfred greeted her. As soon as they were in reach, they slapped each other on the face simultaneously and shared a hug. "Wolfram, Efram, Yuuri…"

"Conrad, Gwendal…" added Cheri. "Manfred and I have decided to get married." Everyone in the room applauded, some only to be polite, though as Cheri predicted, Wolfram's crew was honestly delighted, and threw big hugs around both of them.

As Manfred predicted, Conrad and Gwendal looked… dubious. They hugged both Cheri and Manfred, less than enthusiastically. Annissina arrived and compensated for her new husband's lukewarm response. Aldrich and the other cousins and the Shibuyas also congratulated them, with varying mixtures of enthusiasm and misgivings.

"Have you set a date for the wedding yet?" asked Wolfram.

"We'll elope and send you a card," replied Manfred.

"We'll do no such thing!" said Cheri and punched him fondly. "I want a huge wedding and a _gorgeous_ wedding dress!"

"Well, if you'd _enjoy_ my family and your brother duking it out…"

"Ah, I see your point," conceded Cheri. "But… maybe we could just invite _my_ side of the family, and still have a big wedding. The men on _my_ side aren't nearly as problematic."

"Yes, I've noticed that, Cecilie. The men in your family are tame, emasculated, and really quite well behaved. Try it on me and I'll lash you to the bed, woman."

"Promises,_ promises_, Manfred!" Cheri replied, green eyes flashing dangerously, uncoiling the white whip she wore looped three times around her hips, as a belt to her little white dress of the afternoon.

Gwendal and Conrad bridled at Manfred's comments. But Manfred's bearlike blond cousins Adelbert, Brendan, and Aldrich all happened to be behind him, Ted von Trondheim towering behind, all with arms folded, and looking mortally offended at the suggestion that they be disinvited to Manfred's wedding. Though Yuuri personally found the petite Wolfram look-alike at their center more intimidating. Cousin Aldrich looked particularly intent on just what Cheri expected to do with that _whip_.

"I _so_ love a gorgeous wedding dress!" Miko cluelessly offered into the middle of this. "Oh, I was _so_ disappointed not to get to see my Yuu-chan in his pretty kimono."

"I was _relieved_ not to see my beautiful Wolfram in that oversized toadstool costume you bought for him," opined a cross Cheri. "_Yuuri_ should stick to men's clothes – he doesn't look _nearly_ as sexy in a dress as my Wolfram."

"How dare you! My Yuu-chan is _much_ prettier in a dress than your Wolfram! Tell, her, Shouma!"

"Ah, Miko-chan, I don't _want_ to tell people that Yuuri looks pretty in a dress…" said Shouma, scratching his head in the gesture both his sons picked up from him.

"_Thank you_, Shouma," said Manfred, with gusto. "I'd really rather not see _Wolfram_ in a dress either, touch-me-not toadstool _or_ ravish-me-now vamp, thanks…"

The women were not distracted. Cheri advanced on Miko. "Your _Yuuri_ is prettier than my _Wolfram?_ In your dreams!"

"Yuuri is _much_ prettier than Wolfram!"

Shouri muttered to himself, "It's no wonder Wolfram turned into a, a _seducer_ of my innocent little brother, raised by a _hussy_ like that."

Gwendal, directly behind him, said, "_What_ did you call my mother?"

Shouri spun in horror. "Ah, um… I didn't mean…"

"We should stop this before someone draws blood," suggested Wolfram.

"Spoilsport," said Manfred, with an evil green-eyed demon smile. "But if you insist…" He raised his voice. "Cecilie, _I_ know what we should do for our wedding!"

"Oh, it's all up to _you_, is it?" yelled Cheri, wheeling on him.

"Well – _sure_. You remember those islands off Khrennikov? With the phosphorescent jellyfish in August? That the yacht was too deep for, and we got stuck that time?"

"Oh!" said Cheri, completely hooked. "_Oooh_."

"I can finish up the design of the hydrofoil this fall, lay the keel by Winterfair, shakedown cruise in June… Then we take everybody on a family vacation there for the height of glowing jellyfish season, and get married then. And we just invite whatever family we really want to spend a week's vacation on the boat with."

Cheri flew into his arms for a hug and kiss, "I _love_ this idea!"

"I thought you might," said Manfred. "Now, about that whip of yours, woman…" They eddied out of the general hubbub at the center of the room, for a more intimate conversation accompanied by a playful game of tug-of-war with the whip, which they appeared to be enjoying immensely.

Yuuri decided to save Shouri, still quaking before Gwendal's glower. "Ah, aniki – could I get you to take some pictures of the children?"

Snagged by others along the way, Shouri was delayed taking other posed shots while the children patiently waited under Efram's supervision. "Come on, Frieda, you can say it," encouraged Efram. " '_Chichiue_', and '_Wimpue_'. Ch-CHU-way, u-WIMP-way."

Greta giggled. "Chewwwy," Frieda eventually managed. "Wimmmpy."

"_Excellent_, Frieda! Oh, so you're so smart!" Bertram started to fuss, so Efram handed off Frieda to Greta and picked the newborn up out of his basket. Murata came over to admire Bertram, touching a finger to those irresistable miniature digits. Bertram immediately turned his beautiful crescent-moon deep aquamarine eyes on him, and smiled. Well, newborns supposedly don't know how to smile. But his lips quirked up – perhaps it was gas.

"_Sh-!_" Murata exclaimed in shock, but caught himself in time. "Ah, what a… beautiful baby you are, Bertram."

Giesela and Wolfram wandered over. Wolfram reached for Bertram just as Giesela, in lovestruck newlywed bliss, came into Murata's arm and gave him a kiss.

Bertram flamed her.

"Wolfram von _fucking_ Bielenfeld!" Giesela hissed. "You _taught_ him to do that!"

"Barracks language is not appropriate _here_, Sergeant. And I did _not_. What is your _problem_, Giesela?" He crooned to Bertram, "No, sweetie, you can't go flaming people. What did she do to upset you, hmm? Are you hungry, sweet one?"

Yuuri, drawn quickly by Giesela's revived hostilities toward Wolfram, came to pose them all for a picture, waving urgently for Shouri to get the camera over here. Yuuri held Greta and Frieda on his lap, arm around Wolfram as well, who held Bertram.

Goofing around, Efram joined the family portrait, putting his head on Wolfram's shoulder. For this test shot, Efram suggested, "Bishounen smile practice, fire healer halos _ON!_" Wolfram laughed and went along with it. Bertram seemed to pick up the spirit of the thing and glowed as well, eyes on Murata behind Shouri. As the camera shutter closed, Greta was clambering up Yuuri's thigh for a better look, grinning, Frieda was caught in one of those rare beatific baby smiles, and Yuuri was caught in astonished wide-eyed delight.

Shouri took a lot of pictures that afternoon – most of them more politically correct. The one with Yuuri and Wolfram and all the kids and grandparents and Adelbert and uncles and the two couples who _did _get married that week – photo taken by Brendan – was the official best shot, and graced the walls of both pairs of grandparents.

But the one Yuuri loved the best, and felt got the emotional truth down best for him, politically correct or not, was that first shot. Wolfram and himself, with those four children – three matching blond fire healer demons glowing to the left, and three human and part-Mazoku, of mismatched skin and hair colors, grinning to the right. _That_ picture, he had Shouri get developed on the finest fade-resistant paper with protective glass, and kept on his desk for the rest of his reign as Maou.

Regardless of when Yuuri's wedding finally came – he didn't much care – he counted the beginning of his true _marriage_ to Wolfram, from the pirate wedding that never was, when they began to raise those four children together. Two adopted, two fostered. Two demons, two not. All, along with Wolfram, the delight of his life.

-oOo-

A year and a half later, Wolfram sat writing invitations at his desk by the windows in the nursery. Frieda was crawling around playing with blocks. She grew prettier every day, with long wavy brilliant orange hair. Adelbert was home about half the time these days. The nursery was her home, no matter which fathers were around on a given day. Bertram was cuddled to Wolfram in a baby sling, having recently outgrown his baskets. The two of them rarely spent a full hour out of each other's touch when Bertram was awake.

What with two babies to care for, his role helping Yuuri guide his busy and changing kingdom, and Manfred and Cheri's wonderful family vacation and wedding over the summer, he'd been too busy to plan another wedding. But that week in the gorgeous islands off Khrennikov had inspired him. He'd gotten back to it, much slowed by Bertram and Frieda and the endless adventures of Efram, who still chose to stay with them until Manfred finally returned to teaching at the Institute next semester.

Wolfram addressed the last invitation. "Third time's a charm!" he whispered.

Bertram narrowed his beautiful aquamarine eyes into little crescents, and _smiled_.

-oOo-

The End.

-oOo-

_Thank you_ to those who have written reviews! Please write more? If only to say that you want me to write more? Even if the story is over and already written – please review?


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